Cannabis has become one of the most commonly used drugs among people living with eating disorders, and a large new survey suggests that many of them believe it genuinely helps — although the picture changes dramatically depending on which eating disorder a person has. The findings, published in the Journal of Eating Disorders, come from the MEDication and other drugs For Eating Disorders survey, known as MED-FED, a study led by researchers at the Lambert Initiative for Cannabinoid Therapeutics and the InsideOut Institute for Eating Disorders at the University of Sydney. The survey asked more than five thousand adults who self-reported a diagnosed eating disorder, or undiagnosed disordered eating causing distress, about their recent use of prescription and non-prescription drugs, and about the perceived benefits and harms of each substance they used.
The scale of cannabis use surprised even the research team. Among 5383 respondents, 3018 people — 56.1 percent — reported using cannabis within the past twelve months, making it the third most commonly used drug in this population after caffeine and alcohol. More striking still was the intensity of that use: 42.1 percent of recent users, some 1270 people, described themselves as daily users, and 24.3 percent reported using cannabis several times a day. This is a level of frequent consumption that far exceeds typical patterns in the general population and immediately raises questions about why people with eating disorders are turning to cannabis so heavily, and what they hope to get from it.
The products people used reflected the modern, diversified cannabis market. Cannabis flower remained dominant, used by 88.4 percent of recent users, but edibles were close behind at 51.2 percent, followed by vaporisers at 20.8 percent and cannabis oil at 18.5 percent. Concentrates and other formulations made up the remainder. This diversity matters scientifically, because different products deliver different profiles of cannabinoids — the psychoactive tetrahydrocannabinol, or THC, and the non-intoxicating cannabidiol, or CBD, among them — in different doses and with different onset times. Edibles, for instance, produce slower, longer-lasting effects than inhaled flower, a pharmacological distinction that could shape both therapeutic potential and the risk of adverse reactions.
When the researchers broke the results down by diagnosis, a clear and clinically important pattern emerged. People with avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder, or ARFID, were more likely to use cannabis than respondents with other diagnoses, while those with anorexia nervosa were less likely to use it. Yet among those with anorexia nervosa and ARFID who did use cannabis, self-reported improvements in eating disorder symptoms were marked. Respondents described reduced anxiety around food, less nausea, and an increased ability to eat — effects that map plausibly onto the known pharmacology of cannabinoids, which act on the body’s endocannabinoid system, a signalling network deeply involved in regulating appetite, nausea, and the reward value of eating.
The endocannabinoid system has long interested researchers studying feeding behaviour. CB1 receptors, the primary molecular targets of THC, are found throughout brain regions governing hunger, satiety, and reward, and activating them is well established as a driver of increased appetite — the phenomenon colloquially known as the munchies. For people whose illness is defined by restriction and food avoidance, that appetite-stimulating effect, combined with anti-nausea and anxiolytic properties, could in principle counteract core symptoms. The survey data suggest that many people with restrictive presentations have effectively discovered this for themselves, self-medicating with an unregulated drug in the absence of effective licensed treatments.
For binge eating disorder, however, the story reversed. Respondents with this diagnosis frequently reported that cannabis made their symptoms worse, most likely by triggering the very overeating episodes that define the condition. This diagnostic split is one of the most scientifically interesting aspects of the study, because it demonstrates that cannabis is not a uniform intervention across eating disorders. A drug that dampens food-related anxiety in someone who fears eating may instead amplify dysregulated eating in someone who cannot stop. Any future clinical trial would need to be designed around specific diagnostic subtypes rather than treating eating disorders as a single homogeneous category.
Overall mental health appeared to benefit in the eyes of most respondents, regardless of diagnosis, with the majority reporting that cannabis improved their general psychological wellbeing. But the survey also uncovered a darker side of heavy use. Daily cannabis use predicted higher rates of comorbid mental health conditions and greater use of other non-prescription drugs, an association that cannot be untangled from cross-sectional survey data but which flags daily consumption as a marker of clinical complexity. Perhaps most tellingly, 18.4 percent of recent users — 556 people — believed they had a problem with cannabis, and a further 14.0 percent believed they might have one. Nearly a third of users, in other words, harbour doubts about their own relationship with the drug.
The qualitative arm of the study reinforced this ambivalence. Of the 640 respondents who provided optional open-ended comments about their cannabis use, thematic analysis revealed sharply contrasting narratives: some described life-changing relief from food-related distress, while others recounted cannabis-induced exacerbations of both eating disorder symptoms and broader mental health problems. These first-person accounts add texture that closed survey questions cannot capture, and they echo the study’s central conclusion that cannabis sits in an uneasy middle ground — widely perceived as beneficial, yet carrying real risks of dependence and psychological harm, particularly at daily or more-than-daily frequencies.
The context for these findings is the stubborn treatment gap in eating disorders. Few effective treatments exist for conditions such as anorexia nervosa and ARFID, and mortality and relapse rates remain high, which explains why patients and clinicians alike are drawn to novel therapeutic options. The authors argue that formal clinical trials of cannabis products in eating disorders are now warranted, particularly for restrictive and food-averse subtypes where self-reported benefit was strongest. Such trials would need to establish appropriate cannabinoid formulations, doses, and ratios of THC to CBD, and to measure objectively what a survey cannot: whether cannabis actually changes eating behaviour, weight restoration, or recovery trajectories, rather than merely the perception of benefit.
Until that evidence arrives, the study stands as both a warning and an invitation. The warning is that a large minority of people with eating disorders are using cannabis heavily, often daily, with a substantial proportion worried about dependence — and clinicians should be asking about cannabis use routinely. The invitation is to a rigorous research programme that takes seriously the signals emerging from this community. The endocannabinoid system’s role in appetite and nausea regulation gives a credible biological rationale for cannabinoid-based medicines in restrictive eating disorders, but self-report in an uncontrolled survey is not proof of efficacy. What the MED-FED data provide is a detailed map of real-world use, perceived benefit, and perceived harm — the essential groundwork for the controlled trials that must come next.
Subject of Research: Cannabis use patterns and perceived effects among adults living with eating disorders
Article Title: Cannabis use among people living with eating disorders
Article References: Rodan, S.-C., Perez, M.-B., Hurwitz, S.-L., Meez, N., Briggiler, V., Greenstien, K., Maguire, S., & McGregor, I. S. (2026). Cannabis use among people living with eating disorders. Journal of Eating Disorders. https://doi.org/10.1186/s40337-026-01753-0
Image Credits: AI Generated
DOI: 10.1186/s40337-026-01753-0
Keywords: cannabis, eating disorders, anorexia nervosa, ARFID, binge eating disorder, THC, CBD, endocannabinoid system, MED-FED survey, self-medication, cannabinoid therapeutics, mental health
Cite Scienmag News
Ophelia Keating. (October 3, 2026). Cannabis Use Is Widespread in Eating Disorders, But Benefits Depend on the Diagnosis. Scienmag. https://scienmag.com/cannabis-use-is-widespread-in-eating-disorders-but-benefits-depend-on-the-diagnosis/
Ophelia Keating. "Cannabis Use Is Widespread in Eating Disorders, But Benefits Depend on the Diagnosis." Scienmag, 3 October 2026, https://scienmag.com/cannabis-use-is-widespread-in-eating-disorders-but-benefits-depend-on-the-diagnosis/. Accessed 3 October 2026.
Ophelia Keating. "Cannabis Use Is Widespread in Eating Disorders, But Benefits Depend on the Diagnosis." Scienmag. October 3, 2026. https://scienmag.com/cannabis-use-is-widespread-in-eating-disorders-but-benefits-depend-on-the-diagnosis/

