16/05/2026
There’s something I’ve been slowly coming to understand about myself lately… and I know I’m not alone in this.
As many of you know, I’ve spent years helping others through readings, healing work, counselling, even going back and further in youth work, employment services, customer service and simply being “the safe person” people come to support was needed.
What I didn’t realise for a very long time is that while I was raising my daughter, working full time, drinking and being the social butterfly I was also masking, overextending, and running on pure nervous system survival.
I’m currently navigating ADHD and now looking into ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) later in life, and honestly… so much suddenly makes sense.
The hyper-focus. The deep empathy. The intense sensitivity to people and environments. The exhaustion after social interaction. The feeling of “absorbing” emotions from others. The need to isolate after giving too much. The constant burnout from trying to keep functioning while still helping everyone else.
Many neurodivergent people experience spirituality very deeply. Not always through organised religion or rigid systems, but through intuition, energy, nature, pattern recognition, healing, and an inner knowing that often can’t fully be explained.
Some researchers even speak about the “Neuro-Shamanic” idea — that in older societies, neurodivergent traits may have been seen as gifts within healing and spiritual roles rather than deficits.
And honestly… NOW I can understand why.
Many ND people:✨ feel deeply connected to nature and energy✨ notice patterns others miss
✨ experience hyper-focus almost like a meditative state
✨ struggle with superficial social rules and inauthenticity
✨ hold deep compassion and hyper-empathy for others
✨ naturally gravitate toward healing, counselling, creativity, spirituality, or helping professions
But there’s also a shadow side to this.
When you are deeply empathic and spiritually driven to help people, you can completely lose yourself in the process.
You don’t always know when to stop. You feel responsible for everyone.
You push through exhaustion because your soul genuinely wants to help.
You override your body’s signals.
You keep giving long after your nervous system has already shut down.
And eventually… burnout arrives.
Not laziness. Not weakness.
Just… Burnout.
For many late-diagnosed ND adults, especially women who masked for years, there’s grief that comes with the realisation too.
Grief for the younger version of yourself who struggled silently.
Grief for always feeling “too much” or “not enough.”
Grief for not understanding why life felt harder for you than it seemed for others.
Feeling like you were always the black sheep and never enough.
But there’s also relief.
Because finally… things begin to make sense.
I’m learning now that helping others cannot come at the cost of abandoning myself.
That rest is necessary.
Boundaries are necessary.
Quiet is necessary.
Stepping back is necessary.
Looking after myself is necessary.
Listening to myself and my body is necessary.
And being spiritual doesn’t mean sacrificing your nervous system to save everyone else.
So if you’re someone who feels deeply, gives deeply, absorbs deeply, and is quietly burning out behind the scenes… please know you’re not broken. And you are not alone.
You may simply be someone whose nervous system experiences this world differently.
And that deserves compassion too. 🤍
Please take care of yourself as you matter.
With love and light,
Ness ###
