Choosing Treatment: How Writer Lara Jacobs Reclaimed Her Story from an Eating Disorder

Featuring:
Ellie Pike, MA, LPC
Lara Jacobs, MFA

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A dangerous secret lurked behind author Lara Jacobs’ ambition: she relied on anorexia to focus her writing, blurring the line between artistic drive and self-destruction.

In this episode, Lara shares how years of chasing a story across continents ultimately led her to eating disorder treatment and to rediscovering herself—both as a writer and as a person in recovery. With honesty and hope, she reflects on the pivotal moments that helped her heal, the community that supported her, and how reclaiming her narrative became the most powerful form of self-expression. Now, she teaches others to do the same.

Transcript

Ellie Pike: 
What would you do if your primary coping skill, the habit that keeps you going, even when life is painful, is also slowly tearing you apart?

Lara Jacobs: 
My name is Lara Jacobs. I'm a writer and I also teach creative writing to empower others. I spent years following a story from Sydney to London to Mallorca to the woods between two fishing villages in Denmark, which culminated in writing my first book and recovering from the anorexia I'd suffered from for nearly two decades.

Ellie Pike: 
On today's episode, we discussed the pivotal moments and practical steps that empowered Lara to nurture both her talent and her body. Through growing recovery skills and finding a supportive community, she is now able to look back on all the chapters of her story with gratitude.

Lara Jacobs: 
My younger self collected and lived in a story that my older self had the language for. Both were required, and that was an incredibly healing experience.

Ellie Pike: 
You are listening to Mental Note podcast. I'm Ellie Pike.

Lara, I'm so happy that you're here on this episode, I'm really looking forward to speaking with you. And you are no stranger to stories, and here we are, really about to dig into your own story. So, I'm really excited for that, thank you for being here.

Lara Jacobs: 
Thank you for inviting me.

Ellie Pike: 
Of course. I'd like to start with, what is your relationship between writing and anorexia, or what was your relationship like?

Lara Jacobs: 
It was really confusing for me, because in so much of the language of recovery, there is such an emphasis on writing and the importance of journaling and kind of telling your story. And for me, it was the act of writing that really kind of became really enmeshed with this process of starvation. And then it was at a point in this book where I was just stripping the language to the bone and I was pretty much subsiding on chicken broth because I just felt like I couldn't take anything else in. And there was sort of a trance-like place that I probably got into, and that it was reflected in the language in the pieces that I was writing. And outwardly they ended up being praise, but kind of inwardly there was sort of a sense that it was no longer possible to kind of live this way and to function or to even survive. And it was really confusing because I sort of felt like in a way that anorexia was necessary for creativity, and I really had to learn how to write without harming myself in that way.

And I think that I would never want to glorify an eating disorder, but I think that there can be a finer line than we'd like to acknowledge, between losing yourself and creativity and mental illness. And at the time I didn't know how that I could harness the creative voice and also stay in myself physically. And that was something I really had to learn kind of through the process of recovery, but also through really learning to write again as if I were learning to walk.

Ellie Pike: 
I like what you said about not glorifying the eating disorder, and that is such an important piece that we never want to do. And yet I agree with you, there's maybe in my words, I would say sometimes a purpose behind it for the reason that it sustains and why it continues. And even though it might not be serving you well in the long term, it was like taking you into a different place, like you said, a trance-like place, where it allowed you to be more creative. So in order to pull back on the eating disorder, it sounded like you really needed to build up some new skills or new ways to build your creativity in that space, and that was really important to you. So, I think it is important to acknowledge the purpose that is served.

Lara Jacobs: 
Thank you, and I think also that there's a way that at the time, the story that I was writing, I also was really, there were elements of it that were from real life. And I'd met all of these different people and really become close to some of them, of kind of the last man alive, who'd really designed the Sydney Opera House. And I think that I was really uncomfortable with letting my own opinion be on the page and letting it be that when I was doing these interviews that there was actually someone else in the chair, someone else's hand on the door. And that I think that there was also a way I was really stripping myself from the writing. And in retrospect, I was someone who found a lot of safety and disappearing in my life, and I think that that had been kind of ingrained since I was a child, even as much as I loved stories that also I lived in stories, like I lived in this book.

And so when you talk about skills, I think that resonates deeply, but it was also for me, I had to learn how to be in reality in a different way. And I think that also, in addition to something serving a purpose, the word that I would think of is vulnerability too, because I think that sometimes when one has a really active imagination, that that can be such a gift, but it can also be a way that you have to learn how to still be grounded in your body, and be grounded especially when things are really hard. And I think that I'd sort of escaped into this story for years and gotten so deep into it, I didn't really know how to come back out.

Ellie Pike: 
Wow, and then I imagine there was a turning point, because I know that you're not living in your eating disorder right now. So, what happened to make you finally seek treatment for your eating disorder?

Lara Jacobs: 
I think that there are certain things about recovery that remind me a little bit of travel, and that I think they both kind of depend on the kindness of strangers, certain people we don't really know.

And I mean, one of the things that was true too, is I would've never said at that time that I had an eating disorder or that I was anorexic. I didn't have that language, and so I just felt like I couldn't eat. And I was going to different doctors and there was a tech seeing me for certain tests at a hospital here in Colorado, and I think it was the second or the third month, and she literally walked me over to a different part of the hospital to Dr. Gaudiani's clinic and said, "You need to see her." And I think that that was both kind of that initial act of kindness of this woman, but also Dr. Gaudiani was someone who's tremendous to my recovery and kind of the first person who really believed in me and I think could also sort of see the complexities of my own experience. And I know that everyone feels like their experiences are complex, but I think that that was true for me.

And then probably the secondary piece of that was also at a certain point, I was kind of witnessing myself really starting to disappear physically. And I was mostly just working seven days a week trying to make this book real. And I think I would look at myself in the bathroom mirror at night and just see myself literally shrinking, and it surprised me. It occurred to me, I didn't want to die.

And I think the other kind of turning point for me was, I needed more care. I think I'd just been in an eating disorder for so long, and also probably because at that point the physical isolation of my life in a certain way, that it was really helpful to go to ERC and to just have that support. And I think at the time, I brought my manuscript with me. It was really jarring for me at first actually, because I had the pen I always wrote with and when I came to ERC, they'd removed the nib of the pen because I guess they considered it a threat to self-harm. And all of that was just so foreign to me, because I really wasn't trying not to eat or I wasn't trying to harm myself. I was just trying to write a book, and write a book that was different and that would matter.

And I think that that was really jarring to kind of recognize that I think on a certain level, no one feels like they belong in treatment for an eating disorder. And at the same time, it was only the fact that my insurance kept paying for it in a certain way, and that I kept sort of seeing the results of these different physical tests. And that kind of made me realize that I actually was sick enough to be there.

And I think that it was really lucky for me though, because I think once I had language that it really helped me recover. And I feel like this with any story that we tell, that when we have language for something, that that's the first step. And that then it becomes action and then it becomes kind of the time it takes to heal. But if you can name something, you're no longer dealing with just the dark.

Ellie Pike: 
Lara, I think it's really interesting that you didn't have words for your eating disorder before you got to treatment, really, or that you went so many years just letting this eating disorder start to morph into your life and become so intertwined, without necessarily understanding it or really calling it out as having an eating disorder. And I'm wondering if you have any language now to help describe how that happened.

Lara Jacobs: 
I do. I think, I mean, when I say that the manuscript that I had written was praised, that I think the same thing unfortunately happens in our culture when someone tends to look pretty thin before you get to a certain place. And I think that an eating disorder was a coping mechanism since I was young, just like the stories. And that was, without kind of going into detail, sort of how I coped with a lot of the pain I think from my past. But I was always really functioning well on the outside. I had the markers of someone who I think has gone to certain schools, who has certain jobs, that it seemed like I was always really functioning.

And I think that the other piece was too, that for me, a lot of what I experienced, I think that I didn't call it an eating disorder because it would always have physical symptoms. And so I would go to certain doctors for those physical symptoms and knew that I wasn't okay, but there wasn't necessarily a sense that there was something that I was doing or unintentionally that could have contributed to those things.

And I think finally for me, when I was kind of following the story, I was living a lot of my life for a few years quite alone in other countries. And I think that when you are more alone, that you don't necessarily have that kind of response from the world or from other people who can kind of name what's happening or what's going on, and you do become kind of insular. And I think that I also just wanted to be a writer more than anything in my entire life. And I think I also came from a belief system in some of the people in my life at that point who it was like, you do whatever it takes. And so if it destroys you in the process, well, that was probably the cost. And I think that that kind of unforgiving sort of attitude really lends itself well to the deprivation required of real starvation.

And I think that when you don't have a strong of a sense of self, which I think I knew who I was kind of internally in a deep sense, but I was also very much and still struggle with people pleasing. And I think that that just made me really vulnerable to behaviors without ever having that kind of language. I think then until someone hits a point that it's no longer possible to keep going, you just keep living with it. And one of the things I feel is really lucky is actually that I did get so sick, because otherwise I think there's a certain way I could see a version in which I was still sort of a functioning anorexic. And I'm really, really glad that that no longer became possible.

Ellie Pike: 
Thank you so much for digging into your story in that area, and then I can also see a lot of parallels to other folks who've struggled with eating disorders, where the temperament that is associated with eating disorders, there's a lot of similarities. Like the hardworking, the focus, the perfectionism, the discipline, and then the people pleasing. And those are really research-based. I'm actually saying that those are true temperament pieces that have come out in the research in the last 30, 40 years. And so, it's interesting to think about your genetic predisposition having a role to play in how an eating disorder develops. And yet, we know that recovery is possible for anyone and that is why I do my job, or else I would never tell these stories. And I'm really interested in what that actually looked like for you and if you were still writing throughout the process.

Lara Jacobs: 
Well, thank you. And I just wanted to say too, I think that that's one of the reasons why it's so important to me to kind of try to name the truths of my experience, is because I don't read a lot of books about eating disorders but I was reading a memoir recently where someone had a list of all the things that make you kind of less likely to recover. And I fit every single category, in terms of the length of my illness, the age that I was, the severity. And I think it's really important to recognize that at any point you can change your life and also how important it's to have good support and help. But I think I wish too, that there were more models for people who were recovering older also.

And just to say for me about writing, I didn't write for a long time, and I found that it was one of the things that happened was that I no longer had the mind in a certain way on a literal level that wrote those pieces. So even the things that were working, I could no longer go back to them and kind of edit them because I just didn't think that way. And so I kind of set them aside for a long time, and I think I had to find a lot of safety in my own life. Teaching was really important because I think through empowering others and helping others have the courage to find the voice and form for their own stories, it really allowed me to kind of think about, well, what if you gave yourself this permission?

I think also building more relationships in life was really important, also severing some relationships, and that was really hard. But I say that because I think I also, once I did start writing again, I wrote a lot that never ended up in the final book. And I think I had to work through a lot of the personal things around that time. And I think that's so important for anyone writing to let write whatever you need to. But my partner had said at one point that that was sort of the draft I needed to recover myself, and I think that that was true. That I had to feel like I could write everything and then set that aside and go back to the writing.

And I think that the other thing that happened to me was part of recovery is, for me at least, you have to learn how to trust other people because you no longer can exactly trust yourself and the voices that are what you've kind of set up as keeping you safe. And then that's sort of the opposite of writing and of being a good writer, because you have to trust your instincts. And it took a really long time to trust myself again, that I hadn't completely failed and lost it, the fact that I ended up in Eating Recovery Center. And not that that's a failure, but I think for me it felt like the sense that everything I'd believed that was true about the creative process or what I was doing, that suddenly no longer held.

And it was actually when I went back to Sydney last year and realized that when I had started following the story 10 years ago as part of the story, I interviewed all of the last men alive, and they just were men because of the time period, who'd built the Sydney Opera House, and they're all dead now. And one of the things that was really moving was that I realized that not only was there a story there, that I hadn't been wrong, but that also I couldn't write that story now. And so there was a way that my younger self collected and lived in a story that my older self had the language for, and that both were required. And that was an incredibly healing experience too.

Ellie Pike: 
It sounds like there's so many parallels between the story you were trying to write, and then your personal experience with anorexia, and the timeline of both of those, and developing the language later that you didn't have when you were younger. And so, I think this is so beautiful just to hear you bring in the parallels there. And I'm curious if we can dig into even some of the details of, what was treatment actually like? And then what was it like to transition back to "normal life," which we know is really different than when you first entered treatment?

Lara Jacobs: 
Yeah, I think that for me, because all of it was so new when I started needing treatment that it just, at first it's sort of like a pyramid where the layers kept increasing, of realizing that I needed more care. And I'll also say it wasn't only physical, but I think probably for anyone who has struggled with an eating disorder, that you start to recognize the reasons. And as much as I've talked about the creativity, they're also really painful relationship with my father and another relationship in my life that had gotten really unhealthy. And I think that it just was a lot to be able to start opening these things and to also probably be so physically and emotionally vulnerable.

And so for me, residential treatment was really helpful. I remember, just I think in some ways the best I've ever slept was at ERC, but just this sense of feeling so safe of someone kind of checking on you all the time. And I will say too, I think that for me at least, I've come to see each of these moments differently and every year it changes a little bit for me. And it took me probably about four years out to realize how sad I found that, that I did actually feel so safe there, and that I did find that comfort that I hadn't actually found that at other moments in my life before then. And I would no longer say that that's sort of the best that I slept and the safest that I felt, but at one point it was.

And I think that the other thing was once I left residential treatment, and even when I was there, it was, I just remember as sort of a psychiatrist saying to me, "It's really a lot of parallel here that you're writing about a man who couldn't finish his building and you can't finish the book." And so it is not that I couldn't see the irony, but sometimes you're not really sure what to do with it. And once you start kind of understanding what isn't working in your life, it's also hard to figure out how to change it.

And recovery in the actual treatment center for me at least, was very contained, and then leaving of how do you rebuild your life? And as an adult, I was living alone. I didn't have a family with me, and not saying that my mom wasn't there, but just that it's different. And I think that it took a long time because there's sort of the physical recovery, and then I think there's the starting to put the pieces back together of your life in terms of, for me, going back to teaching at the university was helpful in having that sort of structure. And then also at the same time, starting to have friendships in a different way again, and even romantic relationships.

But I think I felt a lot of shame for a long time and a lot of sense that this was something to sort of never talk about, the fact that I had broken. And if we can actually speak to the things that break us, it's the most freeing sort of feeling and recognizing, that the thing that almost kind of pulled you under, if you learn how to harness that story and also I think harness the strength and the experience of surviving it. That it really, in the years since then and the years that I've had some real challenges, I feel like I've actually found a lot of strength in knowing that I survived.

Ellie Pike: 
I appreciate that you're able to look back and see some of the strength in yourself and the resilience too, and even acknowledging the shame that you felt afterwards. And is there anything else that you would attribute to your story really, as far as digging into the meaning of those years spent writing this book and also of your anorexia before recovery?

Lara Jacobs: 
One of the things I think was, especially during those years, I had a lot of other people imposing meaning on my life and on this story. And that was, I think part of where I got confused in the writing, was I felt really uncertain about trusting my own sense of meaning. And one of the things I've realized since then is that I think that we hold meaning really lightly in life, that ideally if we're we're living well, that the way that we see something continually changes and our stories continually change. But I do believe that at every moment, the meaning has to be your own.

And the thing that I take the most from those years of my story is actually my softness, because I think that there was a tremendous openness that I had and sort of completely unprepared. And I don't mean that I was unprepared in my work, but I didn't have the credential to be doing any of this research. I didn't have any sort of backing. And anyone who met with me, it was just on the strength of what I presented to them of how I cared about this story and cared about them as people.

And I think coming from a background and a family and a history that had been quite painful, I don't think I'd known that actually to be really open and to be really just soft and not to be kind of always saying that you have the answer or not kind of always being strong, but just kind of being in a place that you don't know of what wonderful things can happen and the richness of connections with other people. It's forged me as a person both in terms of that strength, but it's also helped me find confidence to be more of myself and to recognize that actually, the fact that I write things differently or the fact that I will be friendlier or caring, that those aren't weaknesses.

And there's also been a way in that I had to process a lot of grief, in terms of how much this story, but also probably anorexia kind of enmeshed with it, cost me personally in those 10 years, and probably pretty pivotal years in terms of, what, as an adult. And I don't actually think that writing was what did me in, but I think actually that having a story and having this writing was probably what kept me alive, and was probably how I coped with a lot of the pain about the surrounding parts of my life. And once I kind of felt that and recognized that, there was a way that I felt like I could sort of let the version of myself who did her best to try to make something of her life and to try to be a writer and to take on something that she didn't really know how to write, and to just let her rest. And there's a way that it's okay that I take certain things from that time, but that I'm also no longer that version of myself.

Ellie Pike: 
I love how you describe your strength as softness, and even as you describe it, there's this sense of gentleness that I experience from you. And truly, it is this openness that feels a little different than just the word vulnerability, and it says a little bit more to me about how you approach things in daily life. And it's a really beautiful way to describe yourself, and I'm so glad that you're sharing that with the world.

So diving back into the parallel between stories and your own story, what is important to you about stories? And what compels you to share your own story?

Lara Jacobs: 
I think since I was a child, stories were how I survived. That, yes, I was always reading, but beyond that, I actually was always kind of living a slightly alternate version of reality in my head. And all I mean by that is nothing insane, but more in the sense that I would imagine if my parents weren't divorced or if there were other siblings or if these different pieces and if certain things that were happening weren't happening. And I think that there was a way that telling myself these different stories as I went to bed at night, that they were as real to me as the days that I was living. And it actually took until five years ago that I stopped having this sort of running tape of a different version of my life always in my head of what it would be like or what it would do.

And I think that one of the things is, is that stories are so essential to our lives, and yet there are also ways that sometimes that they can take us away from living our lives. And something that's been really important to me has been to learn how to kind of shape the story in the days that I'm living, not only see stories as escapes.

And the other thing too, is that I don't think I realized how much self-trust recovery and breaking in a certain sense, took from me. And that so often I think we kind of tend to focus on the descent and on the descent into whatever something is, someone is recovering from. And that we don't have as many stories or also the sense of, it took a long time, but I'm a much better writer. There was an absence in those pieces, there was a posthumous quality, there was a way they didn't have any of the voice and the richness. And even though there was a power to them, this, the writing that I do now is so much more embodied, but also just better. We can't really ever see the other side until we're in it, but for me it's been really powerful and also really a lot of hard work and kind of sentence by sentence to recognize that actually, there is another voice that I have.

And it's important to not feel isolated in recovery, and to feel like even if you don't necessarily have the people in your immediate life that you need, but how do you kind of find other resources or other people or other stories? Because for me, ever since I was young, I've never had the mentors or that sort of piece that I think other people speak to that kind of shaped their careers or shaped their lives. So I've always sort of had to rely on finding people who spoke to me, even if they weren't necessarily able to kind of have a conversation. And I think that that's where hearing podcasts or reading books or finding just others' lives can be so important.

Ellie Pike: 
I really appreciate that you're on the podcast sharing your story, and it gives folks a glimpse of what might be possible for them if they move through the recovery process. And simultaneously, I really enjoy what you said about, you don't necessarily know what the other side looks like until you're in it, and it really speaks to the uniqueness of everyone's story. And so today, I am so grateful to have your unique story and your unique passion for writing shared on this podcast. And so digging into your passion a little bit more, how do you move past shame in writing?

Lara Jacobs: 
On a technical level, the first step is that you have to believe that whatever you write down is private and just to relieve yourself of any sort of pressure that someone is going to see it. And to recognize too, how many iterations you're writing goes through, probably just like yourself. And so just to allow that initial space that anything is possible.

And then I think that there's a real kind of bravery or courage that comes from naming the thing inside of you that you feel like you should have kept silent. And I'll say that there were in my own life, I mean, this wasn't only self-generated. I had family members or people who kind of emphasized this sense of shame. And I say that not to say that it was hard for me, but just to say that the shame is very real, and it's not only something that I think just comes from inside of you. And so it's really important though, not to shame yourself and that there's a tremendous power that comes from naming the thing that you've kept silent and telling whatever version of that story you have to. And I feel this both as a writer and also as a teacher, to learn how to tell your story in a way that keeps you safe. And that we live in a culture and in a world that in a certain way kind of encourages people to sort of share everything. And I don't believe that one should ever exploit oneself or anyone else.

And so, I think that sometimes it's important to recognize that it's taken a long time to learn how I can talk to certain parts of my stories and choose to leave out other parts. And not that I'm being disingenuous or less honest, but there are parts that maybe involve other people or parts that also reveal something of myself that I'm not really comfortable with having in the world. And so I think that that's also really important, in terms of shame, as learning how to kind of listen to that voice inside yourself that says, "I'm not quite ready to share that part yet," or, "I want to find a way that I can speak to the truth of the emotion without giving some of the details." And that's really important not to override that instinct, I think too.

Ellie Pike: 
I really appreciate having some of those boundaries and figuring out what those are for yourself, but just giving the okay. The, just because you're ready to share your story doesn't mean you have to share every part of your story, and that's healthy and you can create safe boundaries for yourself. So, life gets busy. You're a professor, your life has just continued to move on, but how do you keep coming back to the page?

Lara Jacobs: 
I mean, one of the things I think is in writing this book, I also taught myself how to write. And even though I've gone to certain schools or have certain credentials, that for me, writing was very much carrying sentences in my head as I walked through the woods in Denmark. Or again, being on my knees on this butcher paper and just slicing sentences over and over again. Or as a child, I read all my work a aloud to my mother and I would just get so tired standing there, I'd switch feet sometimes.

And I say that because I think that writing has been the through line in my life, and that there's been a way it's been really important to kind of keep claiming it for myself. And also to trust that even though my instincts were right about that story I wanted to tell, I just didn't quite have the ability to tell it the way that I wanted to yet. And I think that that gap is really inherent in the creative process, and it's something that I wish someone would've shared with me in a certain way, because so often we have our instincts about what makes a story. I've never heard someone tell me something they want to write about and I've been like, "Oh, I don't know that you should write about that." Everyone is always right about what the instinct is, but sometimes it takes a lot of work and a long time to be able to have the ability to execute on what you want to tell and to also find the version of the story within that. I mean, this writing changed a lot.

And so I think that one of the ways that I keep coming back to the page is that it's what I love and I always remind myself of even when it's really hard, it's what I love. And I think it's also been really lucky to me that writing has become a solace again, instead of this sense of something like a whip on my back. But I think that there's also a sense too, that I recognize because it worked once that in a certain sense that I've learned to trust my instincts more and trust that the work will get there eventually, that the writing will get there eventually. And to try to have a little more ease in the process, because I tried so much to make everything perfect or really tight at an early stage, and you just don't know what the writing is yet. And so now I really embrace messes more.

And the last story I wrote that worked, it's 6,000 words, and it started as a 24,000-word document. And I've recognized in my own process that just to allow myself to write everything and then to whittle it down to kind of learn for yourself what works, and that's what keeps you coming back to whatever it is that matters to you.

Ellie Pike: 
Oh my gosh, I'm so inspired, I think by your passion, and it has me reflecting on like, what is my passion? What is it that I want to keep coming back to? So, what would you offer others to help them narrate their own story?

Lara Jacobs: 
On a practical level, I think I would say the importance of small containers that I think whether there are containers in time of like, you're going to give yourself 15 minutes, whether it's a note card of saying you're just going to fill a note card, that I think it's really important, especially when one is writing about a time or experiences that were challenging. That you're not just kind of openly descending and returning into them.

And I think that I also just would hope that others recognize that whatever you feel you need to say has value, and to keep writing that down and have that vision somewhere. And recognize that it may take you time, but if it matters to you, you'll get there and you'll find it. And I wish that I had trusted my instincts more and recognize that eventually we're able to tell the stories that we need to tell.

Ellie Pike: 
And very practically speaking, I'm really happy to share that you offer writing workshops through Eating Recovery Center and Pathlight. And we would love to invite any of our listeners to join those, where we just really get to hear from you about some of those practical steps and how do you start to explore your story, and then the practical application of writing. So if anyone wants to check it out, we'll link to it in our show notes and then you can visit Lara in person virtually and just hear more about what she has to say.

So Laura, thank you so much for sharing your story, and thank you for sharing your softness and your openness with us, and I'm so grateful. So, thank you so much.

Lara Jacobs: 
Thank you, Ellie, it's been an honor.

Ellie Pike: 
Lara Jacobs has learned the power of harnessing her own story. What began as the timid steps of a young artist reliant on an eating disorder to fuel her craft, transformed into the wisdom of a survivor. Rather than imagining what it would be like to write the perfect story, she now trusts her instincts and knows how to write an honest one. If Lara's story connected with you and you'd like to dig into your own journey, she offers a quarterly writer's workshop through Eating Recovery Center. Go to eatingrecovery.com/events to see upcoming offerings, or you can visit Larajacobswriter.com to discover more of her work. Again, that's Lara, L-A-R-A, Jacobswriter.com.

Thank you for listening to Mental Note Podcast today. Our show is brought to you by Eating and Recovery Center and Pathlight Mood and Anxiety Center. If you'd like to talk to a trained therapist to see if in-person or virtual treatment is right for you, please call them at (877) 850-7199. If you need a free support group, check out eatingrecovery.com/support-groups. If you like our show, sign up for our e-newsletter and learn more about the people we interview at mentalnotepodcast.com. We'd also love it if you'd left us a review on iTunes, it helps others find our podcast. Mental Note is produced and hosted by me, Ellie Pike, edited by Carrie Daniels, and directed by Sam Pike. Till next time.

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Ellie Pike, MA, LPC

Ellie Pike is the director of alumni, family and community outreach at ERC & Pathlight Behavioral Health Centers. Over the years, she creatively combined her passions for clinical work with…
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Lara Jacobs, MFA

Lara Jacobs, MFA Lecturer, Program for Writing and Rhetoric, University of Colorado Boulder - A graduate of Northwestern University and of Boston University's MFA Program in Fiction, I teach courses…