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Two-Thirds the Man He Used to Be, and Proud of It One-Third the Man He Used to Be, and Proud of It
(about 4 hours later)
IPSWICH, England — Who knows what the worst moment was for Paul Mason — there were so many awful milestones, as he grew fatter and fatter — but a good bet might be when he became too vast to leave his room. To get him to the hospital for a hernia operation, the local fire department had to knock down a wall and extricate him with a forklift.IPSWICH, England — Who knows what the worst moment was for Paul Mason — there were so many awful milestones, as he grew fatter and fatter — but a good bet might be when he became too vast to leave his room. To get him to the hospital for a hernia operation, the local fire department had to knock down a wall and extricate him with a forklift.
That was nearly a decade ago, when Mr. Mason weighed about 980 pounds, and the spectacle made him the object of fascinated horror, a freak-show exhibit. The British news media, which likes a superlative, appointed him “the world’s fattest man.”That was nearly a decade ago, when Mr. Mason weighed about 980 pounds, and the spectacle made him the object of fascinated horror, a freak-show exhibit. The British news media, which likes a superlative, appointed him “the world’s fattest man.”
Now the narrative has shifted to one of redemption and second chances. Since a gastric bypass operation in 2010, Mr. Mason, 52 years old and 6-foot-4, has lost nearly two-thirds of his body weight, putting him at about 336 pounds — still obese, but within the realm of plausibility. He is talking about starting a jewelry business.Now the narrative has shifted to one of redemption and second chances. Since a gastric bypass operation in 2010, Mr. Mason, 52 years old and 6-foot-4, has lost nearly two-thirds of his body weight, putting him at about 336 pounds — still obese, but within the realm of plausibility. He is talking about starting a jewelry business.
“My meals are a lot different now than they used to be,” Mr. Mason said during a recent interview in his one-story apartment in a cheerful public housing complex here. For one thing, he no longer eats around the clock. “Food is a necessity, but now I don’t let it control my life anymore,” he said.“My meals are a lot different now than they used to be,” Mr. Mason said during a recent interview in his one-story apartment in a cheerful public housing complex here. For one thing, he no longer eats around the clock. “Food is a necessity, but now I don’t let it control my life anymore,” he said.
But the road to a new life is uphill and paved with sharp objects. When he answered the door, Mr. Mason did not walk; he glided in an electric wheelchair.But the road to a new life is uphill and paved with sharp objects. When he answered the door, Mr. Mason did not walk; he glided in an electric wheelchair.
And though Mr. Mason looks perfectly normal from the chest up, horrible vestiges of his past stick to him, literally, in the form of a huge mass of loose skin choking him like a straitjacket. Folds and folds of it encircle his torso and sit on his lap, like an unwanted package someone has set there; more folds encase his legs. All told, he reckons, the excess weighs more than 100 pounds.And though Mr. Mason looks perfectly normal from the chest up, horrible vestiges of his past stick to him, literally, in the form of a huge mass of loose skin choking him like a straitjacket. Folds and folds of it encircle his torso and sit on his lap, like an unwanted package someone has set there; more folds encase his legs. All told, he reckons, the excess weighs more than 100 pounds.
As he waits to see if anyone will agree to perform the complex operation to remove the skin, Mr. Mason has plenty of time to ponder how he got to where he is. He was born in Ipswich and had a childhood marked by two things, he says: the verbal and physical abuse of his father, a military policeman turned security guard; and three years of sexual abuse, starting when he was 6, by a relative in her 20s who lived in the house and shared his bed. He told no one until decades later.As he waits to see if anyone will agree to perform the complex operation to remove the skin, Mr. Mason has plenty of time to ponder how he got to where he is. He was born in Ipswich and had a childhood marked by two things, he says: the verbal and physical abuse of his father, a military policeman turned security guard; and three years of sexual abuse, starting when he was 6, by a relative in her 20s who lived in the house and shared his bed. He told no one until decades later.
After he left school, Mr. Mason took a job as a postal worker and became engaged to a woman more than 20 years older than him. “I thought it would be for life, but she just turned around one day and said, ‘No, I don’t want to see you anymore — goodbye,’ ” he said.After he left school, Mr. Mason took a job as a postal worker and became engaged to a woman more than 20 years older than him. “I thought it would be for life, but she just turned around one day and said, ‘No, I don’t want to see you anymore — goodbye,’ ” he said.
His father died, and he returned home to care for his arthritic mother, who was in a wheelchair. “I still had all these things going around in my head from my childhood,” he said. “Food replaced the love I didn’t get from my parents.” When he left the Royal Mail in 1986, he said, he weighed 364 pounds.His father died, and he returned home to care for his arthritic mother, who was in a wheelchair. “I still had all these things going around in my head from my childhood,” he said. “Food replaced the love I didn’t get from my parents.” When he left the Royal Mail in 1986, he said, he weighed 364 pounds.
Then things spun out of control. Mr. Mason tried to eat himself into oblivion. He spent every available penny of his and his mother’s social security checks on food. He stopped paying the mortgage. The bank repossessed their house, and the council found them a smaller place to live. All the while, he ate the way a locust eats — indiscriminately, voraciously, ingesting perhaps 20,000 calories a day. First he could no longer manage the stairs; then he could no longer get out of his room. He stayed in bed, on and off, for most of the last decade.Then things spun out of control. Mr. Mason tried to eat himself into oblivion. He spent every available penny of his and his mother’s social security checks on food. He stopped paying the mortgage. The bank repossessed their house, and the council found them a smaller place to live. All the while, he ate the way a locust eats — indiscriminately, voraciously, ingesting perhaps 20,000 calories a day. First he could no longer manage the stairs; then he could no longer get out of his room. He stayed in bed, on and off, for most of the last decade.
Social service workers did everything for him, including changing his incontinence pads. A network of local convenience stores and fast-food restaurants kept the food coming nonstop — burgers, french fries, fish and chips, even about $22 worth of chocolate bars a day.Social service workers did everything for him, including changing his incontinence pads. A network of local convenience stores and fast-food restaurants kept the food coming nonstop — burgers, french fries, fish and chips, even about $22 worth of chocolate bars a day.
“They didn’t deliver bags of crisps,” he said of potato chips. “They delivered cartons.”“They didn’t deliver bags of crisps,” he said of potato chips. “They delivered cartons.”
His life became a cycle: eat, doze, eat, eat, eat. “You didn’t sleep a normal sleep,” he said. “You’d be awake most of the night eating and snacking. You totally forgot about everything else. You lose all your dignity, all your self-respect. It all goes, and all you focus on is getting your next fix.”His life became a cycle: eat, doze, eat, eat, eat. “You didn’t sleep a normal sleep,” he said. “You’d be awake most of the night eating and snacking. You totally forgot about everything else. You lose all your dignity, all your self-respect. It all goes, and all you focus on is getting your next fix.”
He added, “It was quite a lonely time, really.”He added, “It was quite a lonely time, really.”
He got infections a lot and was transported to the hospital — first in a laundry van, then on the back of a truck and finally on the forklift. For 18 months after a hernia operation in 2003, he lived in the hospital and in an old people’s home — where he was not allowed to leave his room — while the local government found him a house that could accommodate all the special equipment he needed.He got infections a lot and was transported to the hospital — first in a laundry van, then on the back of a truck and finally on the forklift. For 18 months after a hernia operation in 2003, he lived in the hospital and in an old people’s home — where he was not allowed to leave his room — while the local government found him a house that could accommodate all the special equipment he needed.
Then his mother died, and one day he decided he wanted to die, too. “I was prepared to cut my wrists,” he said. But instead he found a therapist and began for the first time to articulate his pain instead of swallowing it. She still comes to the house twice a week, and he is still unpicking his past.Then his mother died, and one day he decided he wanted to die, too. “I was prepared to cut my wrists,” he said. But instead he found a therapist and began for the first time to articulate his pain instead of swallowing it. She still comes to the house twice a week, and he is still unpicking his past.
He had a breakthrough when the National Health Service approved his gastric bypass surgery in 2010, after turning him down three times. He developed a new outlook. Even before he had the operation, he said, he lost 70 pounds.He had a breakthrough when the National Health Service approved his gastric bypass surgery in 2010, after turning him down three times. He developed a new outlook. Even before he had the operation, he said, he lost 70 pounds.
His life is different now. He has two dogs and a cat. He has friends — others who have had the surgery, women with eating disorders who have come to him for help, a young mother whose two daughters go to the school down the street. He has a photograph of the girls, smiling in their school uniforms, on a shelf in his living room.His life is different now. He has two dogs and a cat. He has friends — others who have had the surgery, women with eating disorders who have come to him for help, a young mother whose two daughters go to the school down the street. He has a photograph of the girls, smiling in their school uniforms, on a shelf in his living room.
His biggest problem is the skin, which chafes and tears and gets in the way. He cannot exercise much, but he needs to if he wants to reach his ideal weight of 210 pounds.His biggest problem is the skin, which chafes and tears and gets in the way. He cannot exercise much, but he needs to if he wants to reach his ideal weight of 210 pounds.
“I still feel trapped,” he said. The health service has told him, he said, that it will not operate until his weight has remained stable for two years — but he is still losing weight steadily and does not know when he will reach a plateau. Private doctors he has approached say that his case is too complicated for them to take on, and he says he has to work hard not to give up.“I still feel trapped,” he said. The health service has told him, he said, that it will not operate until his weight has remained stable for two years — but he is still losing weight steadily and does not know when he will reach a plateau. Private doctors he has approached say that his case is too complicated for them to take on, and he says he has to work hard not to give up.
“I’m still not 100 percent,” he said. “Some days it’s so tiring, carrying all this excess skin. You do get days when you’re feeling low.”“I’m still not 100 percent,” he said. “Some days it’s so tiring, carrying all this excess skin. You do get days when you’re feeling low.”
But strikingly, he has not had a single relapse since the day he decided to change his life. He eats normal meals — a piece of toast for breakfast, a baked potato for lunch — and he no longer feels like a bottomless pit that can never be filled.But strikingly, he has not had a single relapse since the day he decided to change his life. He eats normal meals — a piece of toast for breakfast, a baked potato for lunch — and he no longer feels like a bottomless pit that can never be filled.
“I do look back and think I should have got to grips with myself earlier,” he said. “But I think I can use what I’ve gone through as a tool to help other people.”“I do look back and think I should have got to grips with myself earlier,” he said. “But I think I can use what I’ve gone through as a tool to help other people.”
When he is more mobile, he said, he envisions giving talks in schools and holding support groups for people struggling with food addictions.When he is more mobile, he said, he envisions giving talks in schools and holding support groups for people struggling with food addictions.
As for the dubious record he may or may not have held at his heaviest, Mr. Mason is not so sure. “I think that Mexican chap was bigger than me at one time,” he says now.As for the dubious record he may or may not have held at his heaviest, Mr. Mason is not so sure. “I think that Mexican chap was bigger than me at one time,” he says now.
“Anyway, I don’t like that title, because I wasn’t going to be the world’s fattest man forever.”“Anyway, I don’t like that title, because I wasn’t going to be the world’s fattest man forever.”

This article has been revised to reflect the following correction:

Correction: February 6, 2013

The headline on an earlier version of this article misstated Paul Mason’s current weight relative to what he weighed nearly a decade ago. He is now about one-third, not two-thirds, the weight he was then.