My Evil Twin: Why Good People Do Bad Things

By Ron Nicholas

Ron Nicholas has taken God's calling to heart by writing this book about his life in relationship to the Lord. Too few people find victory and healing over addiction. Fewer still have the courage to write about it. This book is the story of Ron's journey from bondage in the Egypt of addiction, through the wilderness of prison to the promised land of new life. Ron's story gives powerful and touching reasons for his hope in God. This book is more than a touching testimony. Ron tells his story of discipleship with a deep integration of Scripture and orthodox Christian doctrine. This book has the real potential by God's grace to be used as a practical guide and rich resource for Christian disciple making.As Ron grew in relationship with the Lord, he learned the ways of God. He learned a different way to interact with God and with all those around him. God formed the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control in Ron, in and through his healing process. In John chapter 15 Jesus tells His followers to abide in Him and promises that if they abide in Him they will bear abundant fruit. This book is part of the fruit of Ron's abiding in a faith relationship with God the Father, God the Son, and the Holy Spirit. May God bless as you come to know the reasons for Ron's hope and inspired labor in the writing of My Evil Twin: Why Good People Do Bad Things.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098041878

Book preview

1

The Beginning of an End

It begins as an ordinary day. There are no signs, no wonders out of the ordinary to proclaim the coming of the day. The alarm rings. He wakes up as he normally does. He and his wife rise up out of bed, still a little sleepy, just like every other work day. Shower. Dress. Get ready for another day.

Before he has left the house, that little knot is there in his stomach, the accompanying nausea. But that’s all just part of any normal day anymore. The busy routine and his work as a teacher take the knot out. Soon, he relaxes and goes about his daily work. He gets coffee on his break and does a little paperwork and some grading. He has lunch with the regular gathering of coworkers, and when the last bell rings, he goes home. It’s the end of a regular workday.

He has dinner with his family. Some days, everyone is there, and on the others, the last child still at home is missing, busy with school events, or out with friends. Some days they spend the evening together; on other days, he has some unfinished work and will go back to the office to finish up. It’s been just another ordinary day.

That’s what my life was like. I thought of it as ordinary. As a Christian, I thought my life was blessed, even if it wasn’t perfect. For the most part, I felt like I had it all together.

There was that other part of me—a hidden part of me that I loved, and hated at the same time. Unknown, even to myself, I was a pornography addict. Like many addicts, I was in denial about it. It was just a little problem I had. If only this or that would happen, then I would be able to quit.

Still, on this ordinary day, after all my work was finished and I was alone, my addiction called out to me, and I would sit down in front of the computer, and I would answer that call.

I saw my first female nude photos around the age of twelve, about the same time that The Beatles were singing All You Need Is Love. My father had a one-time, one-year subscription to Playboy magazine, and since I was entering puberty, I was allowed to look at the magazines; after all, it’s normal for an adolescent male to be curious about the opposite sex. My Dad didn’t like the way it objectified women and the subscription ran out. My response was very different unfortunately, and my viewing of pornography would continue; there were always other places, other sources of pornography. For the longest time, my urge to view pornography was fed by slick men’s magazines, but just as I grew, the desire for more—more revealing, more graphic images grew also. Over-the-counter men’s magazines were supplemented by the occasional sex store magazines, and then X-rated videos, and finally Internet pornography. The hunger grew, and with the click of the mouse, I could feed it. For nearly forty years, I fed my desire for pornography, but the hunger was never satisfied.

Yes, it was just another day, unfortunately for me. I can’t tell you the date or which day of the week it was. I can’t tell you which month, not even which year, but I do remember what happened that day. The Internet has made access to illegal pornographic images possible with just the click of the mouse on a link in a pop-up, or the right word(s) in a search engine. The buttons I clicked on and the correct word choices I made opened the door to the darkness of underage, child pornography.

I was not caught or arrested on the day I wish to share with you, but I did have a very unusual, perhaps supernatural experience; one which was a very strange and disorienting event. As I was surfing the Internet, finding and viewing pornographic images, I suddenly saw myself! I was standing up outside of my body, watching another me as I sat in the chair, the computer on in front of me. And as that me was at the computer looking at the pornographic images, the other me was screaming in my mind, How could you? How can you do this?

As fast as thought, the vision was over, but it left me stunned. I was scared. I jumped and quickly turned and looked over my shoulder, expecting to see what? Myself? My twin?

It was the first time I ever had such an experience; the first time I ever saw him, you know, my evil twin. It was the first time I had ever seen two of me—one good and one bad, separate from each other. Somehow, I knew the two could never live together, even though each one was me. One me would have to die. I knew in my heart bad things were coming, but I didn’t know how to stop it.

The person that was looking at the computer screen was a familiar stranger, not the person I saw myself to be. I saw myself as the good me. Later, I saw a newspaper article about a man going to prison for doing the same thing I was doing, although the details were not exactly the same. And I knew what the bad thing was that was coming—prison. Still, knowing this, I felt powerless to stop it. Or maybe, just maybe, I wanted, needed, my evil twin to go away…and this was the only way I could see it happening.

2

FIBS: Facts. Introductions. Biographical Stuff

The Lord knows it’s not easy to look back over the past fifteen years and see the turn my life has taken. It was never a part of my dreams to be addicted to pornography. I never set out to intentionally hurt others or to ruin the life I did have. No, my hopes and dreams were pretty normal. I looked forward to a life of success: defined by a little fortune; some riches; maybe a little fame, that is, a name for myself; and a happy family, with a loving wife, a few children, and a home (house) of my own with a couple of cars to get around in.

Shortly after the new millennium, I had told my pastor that I was living the American dream; that life was good. I did not foresee prison then, or expect to end up there. Little did I know that my little problem would take a dark turn, but that’s exactly what happened. There are many addictions/obsessions in this world. Mine was and is pornography.

Hello, my name is Ron, and I’m an addict. This is how people introduce themselves at NA (Narcotics Anonymous) meetings. It may be the only place and the only time we are completely honest about our addictions. Prior to my arrest and incarceration, I don’t think I ever thought to use the word addict to describe myself or my little problem.

Oh, there were some warning signs, but it still came as a surprise when things turned bad. There were even biblical signs, dreams that warned of bad things happening. My wife would sometimes call her dreams, nightmares. Although there were warning signs, there was no change in direction, and I continued to behave in the same way, following the same path.

Looking back, it was obvious what would happen. After my out-of-body experience and after reading an article, which I had also cut out and kept in my desk; the one about the man arrested for possession of child pornography; I knew what was going to happen—what had to happen. I felt helpless to change things. I was resigned to the future I saw, prison. I hoped it wouldn’t happen. I didn’t really want to go to prison and I was never ready to go, but it seemed by then the path was set. I just didn’t know when.

I still remember the knock on the door. I remember the rush I felt from the fear of being caught. Whenever I looked at porn at work, I would lock the door to my room so no one would just walk in on me.

I’ll be right there, I would call when someone knocked. Then I would use that little bit of time to get out of the sites I was on and shut down the computer.

But that day, the knock came from the principal I worked for, and he had his own key. He didn’t wait for me but came on in. I barely got the monitor turned off. Too late! This was the day my world changed.

The date was September 23, 2005. Shortly after 9:30 a.m., Principal Chavarria entered the classroom and instructed me to go with him to his office. The Superintendent, Brandt Myers, and the Technology Coordinator, Erik Craig, were also a part of the meeting that took place that day in the office. At approximately 10:35 a.m., I was escorted off the high school grounds and told not to return. I had a second meeting with the Superintendent, Brant Myers, around 2:40 p.m. at his office. At that time, I choose to submit a letter of resignation, which was signed at 2:46 p.m. after our meeting. Later that day, around 5:00 p.m., I arrived at the police station where I voluntarily gave a statement with my version of the events of that day. The Chief of Police Mike House and Texas Ranger Sergeant Brooks Long were present and recorded that interview. Though I was not officially under arrest at that time, I was charged with possession/promotion of child pornography. There are signed statements by all the people mentioned above in the events of that day. In his statement and notes from our meeting, Dr. Brant Myers states, From what we have found today, there are two lives of Ron Nicholas: (1) one that loves his family and teaching, and (2) a man that I do not know.

The warrant for my arrest was issued Monday, September 26, 2005. I was notified by Chief of Police Mike House and given the chance to voluntarily turn myself in. The above facts and statements can be verified through documents pertaining to my case. These facts are included here so the reader will know that this was/is very real. I had to actually look some of it up. These facts though are not necessarily my memories of that day.

What I remember are the emotions, the feelings, and the people I knew who were involved that day. If you put the Texas Ranger Sergeant Brooks Long in a room with ninety-nine other strangers, I could not pick him out—I don’t know him. But I remember Chief of Police Mike House. I had one of his boys in class and coached another in tennis. I remember Principal Chavarria. I had two of his girls in my class. Can you imagine their thoughts and feelings—the shock? The anger? I remember Superintendent Brant Myers. I worked for him. He trusted me. Can you imagine the feeling of betrayal? There were many more people who were shocked and/or suffered that day—my pastor, my children, my wife, and our parents and family.

I remember the brokenness. I remember shaking and crying a flood of tears, the runny nose, snot dripping down. I can also remember my daughter’s bewilderment when I told her at lunch that I couldn’t go back to the school, not even to drop her off. I remember pouring out the story to my pastor; my head hung low in shame and embarrassment as I told him what was going on. I could barely lift my head to look at him while I was talking. I remember meeting my wife at the front door as she came home from her work at the elementary school. I met her as she walked in, sat her down in the nearest chair, dropped to my knees, and gave her the news. I remember the stricken look on her face as she listened and heard her world fall apart too. I remember still more tears as I kneeled there with my head on her lap.

I also remember amazing grace and love as she ran her fingers through my hair, stroking the back of my head and assuring me that we would make it through this—together. A promise she kept. And I remember love—a love that still binds us together to this day.

3

Two Births

There are two lives of Ron Nicholas: (1) one that loves his family and teaching, and (2) a man that I do not know.

—Brant Myers

Iwas born at 3:42 a.m. on January 19, 1955. I weighed seven pounds, seven ounces. I was nineteen inches long with long dark hair. I was given the name Ronald Alan Nicholas, named after my father’s middle name, following a family tradition.

My mother sometimes told the story of my birth, a somewhat intriguing tale. I was delivered by means of a C-section. They put my mother to sleep before starting the procedure; however, it seems my mother was still partially awake when they started. Though she didn’t say anything about feeling any pain, she says she heard the nurses and the doctor talking. Before she slipped into the peaceful darkness of sleep, she remembered hearing the nurse saying that I was blue and that the umbilical cord was wrapped around my neck. My mother went to sleep thinking her child was dead!

Later that day, after a period of rest, a nurse went into her room and asked if she was ready to see her son. According to my Mom, she lost it and started yelling at the nurses, calling them liars, screaming that I was an imposter, she had heard them. Wow! What a way to be heralded into the world.

My father served in the air force then and we never stayed anywhere too long. My earliest memories are short, fragmented images. I remember a large tire filled with sand. A picture in a photo album tells me I was three years old at the time and that we were living in Topeka, Kansas. I would hear the story from that time that I had a pet scorpion. Mom would tell how when I went outside to play in the sand, a scorpion would come out and join me. Neither of us seemed threatened by the other, and my Mom would say she wasn’t worried or afraid that I would be hurt by the scorpion. Live and let live, I guess. Glad I don’t remember the scorpion, just the story.

I remember a photograph of me when I was little, sitting on some steps, dressed up like a cowboy. As the story was told, my Mom was