The Naming Ceremony: Is Diagnosis a Modern Shamanic Ritual?

While the clinical world is often obsessed with "disorders," most of us know that’s a fundamentally broken way to describe our experience. Lately, I’ve been thinking that for many in the neurodivergent community, getting that formal recognition—or finding your own path to self-understanding—feels less like a medical report and more like a naming ceremony.
I have to give a huge nod to TheCatWoman for this spark. In a recent chat, she used the brilliant analogy: trying to run a neurodivergent brain on neurotypical psychology is like trying to run Windows on an Apple. It got me thinking—if the "operating systems" are that different, then the people who originally built these theories weren't really scientists in the modern sense. They were more like 20th-century shamans trying to map a spirit world they didn't fully understand.
In ancient cultures, a naming ritual was a way to reintegrate someone whose "spirit" seemed at odds with the world. Once named, the "problem" became a "trait," and the person could finally take their rightful place in the tribe. Whether that name comes from a formal assessment or through the "vision quest" of self-diagnosis, it’s a powerful moment of literal recognition. It's like finally identifying with your own spirit animal—finding the creature that actually matches your tracks, rather than trying to pretend you’re a wolf when you’re actually a horse.
I also noticed NAS recently asking the community to share their own tips for securing reasonable adjustments. I suspect they may have been pivoting from my earlier post about being fed up with the lack of them! In this shamanic framework, when a group asks the tribe for their "how-to" guides, they are gathering the communal wisdom needed to help us become the Architects of our own Sacred Space.
These adjustments—whether it's noise-cancelling, flexible hours, or literal task lists—are the protective boundaries that stop our "Apple" OS from overheating in a "Windows" world and the horses getting predated by the wolves.
For those of you who have found your "Name"—whether through a clinician or your own research—did it feel like a clinical label, or did it feel like a ceremony that finally brought your soul home?
Parents
  • The sense of belonging is one of the basic human needs. Big world failed to give me this sense, this forum is the first place that gave me this. It's crucial for my wellbeing and therapeutic although only online. Sometimes I feel guilty for kind of claiming tge label, that was not given to me by a medical professional, and there is the doubt. But for me it's not about identity, it's about belonging. I belong here through my experience shared with other members of this group. I can't say if it's medical or ceremonial for me. Maybe both in some ways or none of them. I'm aware of myself being currently not so strongly affected by these autistic symptoms, there are people out there who are currently struggling much more than me now, or even more than me in the past. I'm almost sure that if I was a kid or teenager right now, I would get diagnosed and hopefully supported. Maybe I could avoid the horrible trauma that I went through. I'm in the lost generation. I have very faint chances of getting ever tested. In my area all diagnostic centers are fully booked. Additionally I can see the anger that there are too many people getting this diagnosis. I don't want drama, I need peace. There might be some false positive,  but I think that all this mess exists because the condition is being researched,  explored, more recognised, plus there are people from the "lost generation" who got recognised or recognised themselves late in life. Like myself. And the problem is that the system is totally not prepared for that. It's hard to say,  whose fault it might be. Sometimes I feel guilty for that although it's illogical because I'm just one person with one life experience and I have very little or no influence on what's going on.

    Finding tge name for my struggles is important,  but for me the most Important thing is finding names for the separate symptoms and understanding myself better. Even if I was diagnosed,  I would still not explain to other people,  that im autistic. Because of the general ignorance around tge topic that explanation wouldn't help me much. Instead I found my own ways. For example- I have slower processing, could you please repeat? Or I told my manager- I don't hate people,  I'm not sad or angry, I just can't take part in social chat, because it's too fast too much and too chaotic. This helped me a lot, because then it's clear for my colleagues why I talk so little and only in a one-one setting. This made my manager look at my direction too when they all sit and chat. This way he shows me that I'm also Included. 

    Earlier I had no words for my symptoms,  traits and weirdness. I struggle to recognise what I'm feeling, so whenever I heard from others "why you are so moody?" I felt somehow frustrated and angry at myself. I aldo recognised that after many years. So this is how "self realisation" and therapy,  even without formal diagnosis MAY help in everyday life.

  • I really get what you said about the lost generation. That feeling of guilt or doubt about claiming the label without a formal diagnosis is so common, but you hit the nail on the head: it is about belonging and understanding your experience, not just a medical certificate.
    What you are doing with your manager is brilliant. By saying "my brain handles a higher volume of detail" or "it is too fast and chaotic," you are doing exactly what we have been discussing here—you are building a bridge. You aren't asking them to understand a medical textbook; you are giving them the practical tools to meet you halfway.
    In any kind of recovery, we are usually inclined to start with small wins just to get moving. Sometimes I struggle to be clear myself, but I want to make sure I'm clear here: what you have achieved with your manager is a big win. Explaining that your brain is simply processing a deeper level of information is often more life-changing than the diagnosis itself because it gives you a functional map for your own mountain climb. Excellent—a big "Yes!" of congratulation for you finding that sense of belonging and the words to describe your world.
    As I was just mentioning to ArchaeC in our thread, as a neuro-physio, I see this kind of shift as a form of social rehab. By using that specific language, you are literally firing new neural circuits that make your environment safer and more regulated. It’s a different kind of tired than the shame of masking because you are building a brain that actually feels seen.

  • Your response touched me, thank you. I noticed that im usually on a self healing mode. Because I could never rely on the system or external help,  so I always worked myself alone. I know, that my issues with reactions to being called for example,  are related to neurological issue and not hearing loss, because I had recently a hearing test and the result is excellent hearing, 100%. The doctor himself suggested neurological issue. Then I had a blood test because of me feeling kind of dizzy without any clear reason. Also everything is fine, separately tested for diabetes- negative result. And here I also heard - neurology. 

    Access to doctors is very limited here where I'm living, so it's all complicated. I realised that I used to have some reasonable adjustments at work even before knowing about autism and suspecting it in myself. There was a need- so I found a solution. My manager has no problems with my reasonable adjustments,  I also heard that he is satisfied with my work, because of my attention to details.  Sometimes when I detect a problem, I have some sort of traffic jam in my head (too much information to queue,  to process) it happens that I report it to him with a delay. And he was still very much amazed that i noticed and remembered that detail.

  • just re-read the above and so another quick ps (without my usual "polish it up before posting effort") - I realised they put on a brave cheerful mask for me too - the biggest bit that made me sad was they and I know and love one another enough to when we said goodbye we privately dropped the mask and we both shared honest expression of pain and sadness... Good job there's birch trees in the wind.

Reply
  • just re-read the above and so another quick ps (without my usual "polish it up before posting effort") - I realised they put on a brave cheerful mask for me too - the biggest bit that made me sad was they and I know and love one another enough to when we said goodbye we privately dropped the mask and we both shared honest expression of pain and sadness... Good job there's birch trees in the wind.

Children
No Data