Could Psilocybin Help People With Anorexia Become More Open to Recovery? 

As someone who has worked in the eating disorder field for more than 20 years, research exploring psychedelics and eating disorders immediately gets my attention.

Anorexia nervosa can be incredibly tenacious. Anyone who has worked with eating disorders—or lived with one—knows that recovery is rarely as simple as “just eat more.”

There are often deeply entrenched patterns underneath the eating disorder: rigid rules, black-and-white thinking, an intense need for control and to control the body, shame, fear, looping thoughts, and difficulty tolerating uncertainty. And trauma. Most definitely trauma.

Traditional eating disorder treatments can work for many. But they don’t work for everyone, for a variety of reasons. Same with antidepressants. We know antidepressants work for some, but they are not effective for everyone. So naturally, researchers and clinicians are always looking for new treatment methods to help those who suffer, and also those who feel they have tried traditional approaches with little relief.

This is why a recent pilot study (2026), out of Imperial College London exploring psilocybin-assisted therapy for anorexia caught my attention.

What did the researchers find?

The study included 21 women who had been living with anorexia for an average of approximately 11 years.

Participants received three psilocybin sessions over six weeks, alongside substantial psychological preparation and support.

This wasn’t simply a study where researchers gave people psilocybin and waited to see what happened. The psychedelic experiences occurred within a therapeutic context, which is an important distinction.

And some of what happened during those experiences was fascinating.

During the psilocybin sessions, some participants actually asked for food and experimented with eating foods they would normally restrict.

Researchers described moments in which participants seemed able to experience food, hunger, and their bodies differently.

One woman who had been living with anorexia for 15 years described her experience not as a magic cure, but as something that:

“cracked me open.”

I love that description.

Because perhaps the potential here isn’t about psilocybin “curing” anorexia.

There are far too many biological, psychological, relational, social, cultural, and nutritional factors involved in an eating disorder for us to reduce recovery to a single intervention.

What interests me is the possibility of creating an opening.

What if rigidity could soften—even temporarily?

One of the things I’ve witnessed again and again in my work with eating disorders is just how rigid or fixed the eating-disorder mind can become.

There are often many rules about what foods are safe.

Rules about when someone is allowed to eat. Rules about how much someone allows themselves to eat.

Rules about movement.

Rules about what the body is allowed to look like.

And beneath those rules may be powerful fears about what will happen if control is loosened.

So this is the question I keep coming back to:

What happens when someone who has been stuck in deeply entrenched patterns suddenly experiences a little more flexibility?

Maybe there is enough space to question a rule that has felt unquestionable.

Maybe hunger can be experienced differently.

Maybe someone can see their body through a different lens—a more compassionate lens.

Maybe they can imagine an identity that isn’t entirely centered around the eating disorder.

Maybe something that has felt impossible suddenly feels a little more possible.

Psychedelics, neuroplasticity, and the brain

This is one of the things that fascinates me about psychedelics.

Psilocybin can temporarily alter patterns of communication between brain networks and is being studied for its potential effects on neuroplasticity and cognitive flexibility.

Research has also found changes involving the default mode network, a collection of interconnected brain regions associated with things like self-referential thinking and our habitual sense of self. I think of it as part of the story we tell ourselves about ourselves, also connected to our sense of ego.

I sometimes think about it as giving some of those well-worn pathways in the brain a chance to loosen their grip.

Not erasing them.

Not magically rewiring someone’s brain in an afternoon.

But perhaps creating a temporary window in which the brain—and the person—can experience something differently.

And perhaps within that disruption, some spaciousness can enter.

New perspectives.

New possibilities.

A different relationship with the body.

A different relationship with hunger.

A different relationship with the eating disorder itself.

And then comes the important work of integration: What do you do with what you experienced? How do you begin bringing those insights into your everyday life?

This is NOT a magic mushroom cure for anorexia.

Let’s be careful not to jump to that conclusion, although it’s tempting!

This was a very small pilot study with no control group. The participants also received substantial therapeutic support, which means we cannot attribute the changes they experienced to psilocybin alone.

We are still very early in understanding psychedelic-assisted approaches for eating disorders.

There are important questions about safety, nutritional and medical stability, psychological vulnerability, appropriate screening, dosing, therapeutic support, and who may—or may not—be a good candidate.

And psychedelics themselves aren’t inherently healing simply because someone takes them.

Context matters. We call this set and setting.

Preparation matters. Expectations matter.

The therapeutic relationship matters—before, during, and after the experience.

And integration matters. They say that psychedelics open the door, but it is up to us to walk through it. This means that whatever insights occurred, we get to make meaning of them and apply the lessons to our daily lives. This is where the rubber hits the road, so to speak—in our daily practices.

Even though more research is needed, the results for some of the participants are worth paying attention to.

After more than two decades in the eating disorder trenches, I know how desperately we need additional ways of helping people who have been suffering for years and haven’t found enough relief through existing treatments.

One of the missing pieces in traditional approaches to eating disorder treatment is often spirituality. And psilocybin is more than just a chemical compound. Through an animist lens, the mushroom can be understood as a living being—a teacher, a spirit, if you will. Animism invites us into a different relationship with the natural world: one where we aren’t separate from nature, but part of a living, interconnected web. And I think there is something really powerful about bringing that perspective into healing.

And right now, I’m very curious about what might become possible when a deeply entrenched eating-disorder pattern loosens—even for a few hours—and someone gets to glimpse themselves, their body, or their life from another perspective.

Psilocybin won’t be a “cure” for anorexia.

But perhaps, for some people, it could help crack open a door that has been tightly shut for a very long time.

Exciting times in the mental health field.

If you are interested in learning more about psychedelics, body image and eating disorder healing, follow me for updates and news here: www.soulstarsage.com 

Much love,

Karen Louise

Here’s the link to the study/article below:

Reference:
Smithsonian Magazine — “Could Psilocybin Help Treat Anorexia?”