As I was crafting the following, Ioannis, you removed your post. I just wanted to say, I really enjoyed it.
My story isn't as interesting as the two of yours, but I've not much else to do right now, so here it goes.
I was raised in a Protestant household, with my mother, three sisters, and grandma. We went to church pretty much every Wednesday, and I went to AWANA for several years and through the fifth grade. I remember reading the Bible fairly frequently, and starting at about age 9 had questions that people didn't have good answers for if the Bible was infallible (as I was taught to believe), questions like "Why does Judas die two different ways?" I also started developing a very strong interest in the idea of spiritual warfare and demons and such and reading things like the Forbidden Doors books. I also started reading theological works by Protestants. One thing I can remember from about the time I was ten, until I was probably thirteen or so, was a fierce anxiety over whether or not I'd wind up in heaven if I died that night, something that I pondered quite a bit during hours I should have been asleep (this is also when I began developing a habit of staying up far later than I ought to, because I was able to distract myself from questions like that if I was watching t.v. or reading). I suppose it's kind of odd that I might have that questions since I went to a church that taught "once saved always saved." But I couldn't help but think "What if the reason I asked Jesus into my heart was only because I was scared of going to Hell?" and "Does that even matter?" At the time, pretty much my entire view towards religion was to avoid Hell. That also prompted my attempts to save my classmates who were not Protestants (yes, Catholics needed saving too) that started in the late fourth or early fifth grades, and continued into the summer between 7th and 8th grades). I was really rather off-putting, because I was quite certain that if I didn't save them, they'd all go to Hell and suffer for all of eternity.
Early in my seventh grade year, I began reading things that I later recognized as Messianic Jewish writings, and began adopting ideas like Modalism. Also in the seventh grade, my family began attending a mega-church that several people, who had attended the church we previously went to, had already started attending. It was nice enough for a little while, but after a few months, I completely stopped going to church. This increasing disinterest in church was tied to an increasing uncertainty about Christianity in general. I started reading refutations of Christianity, that were really refutations of the sola scriptura I had come to identify with Christianity. After a little while, I began doing an immense amount of reading on other religions (something I had done to an extent, previously, but with the intent to figure out how to best go about converting those people). I initially focused on the Abrahamic faiths as they were most familiar to me. I looked at Judaism and really started to see myself, in the future, as a Jew. I did a great deal of thinking on some of the points of Judaism that I was uncertain about. I became convinced that Judaism was probably true, and started reading halachic rulings of different poskim, and started reading some Orthodox Jewish theological works. I mentioned my desire to become a Jew only to a couple of people, in part because I knew that no rabbi would let me convert if I was living in a non-Orthodox household. Because I couldn't yet be a Jew, I read (I believe) everything that had been published - at the time - in the English language on the Noachide Law, and did my best to follow it. During this time, one of the issues I'd been a bit uncertain about had been the Oral Law, and I had accepted it as true because I didn't know of any Jewish groups that were still around who did not accept the Oral Law in some fashion (and who had not become as liberal as the Reform). That is, until I read about the Karaites, and began to become interested in their teachings and traditions. I studied them a lot and thought to myself that perhaps I'd finally found my real religious home, until the idea that a law which permits everyone to keep their own, albeit studied, interpretation of it is no law at all had started to grow, and grow, and grow in my mind. Eventually I shelved Judaism and said, "If I really can't find anything that makes more sense, I'll come back to this."
Then I took a long, hard look at Islam. I became somewhat in love with Islam, much as I had Judaism. I studied it, and studied it, and studied it. I read everything I could. I thought it made sense. I was always able to quiet any thoughts that it might be a violent religion by saying that the terrorists aren't real Muslims or are extremely misguided Muslims, and relying on those that didn't seem to advocate murder. I again only told a few people, because I was terrified of what some of my family (a few individuals in particular) would say and/or do if they found out I wanted to be a Muslim. I was extremely terrified of that. In the end, what my family might say or do wound up not mattering, because one day I was reading a book on the Qur'an that - at the time - I didn't realize was by an ex-Muslim. I saw an Arab name, noted that it was a book on the Qur'an, and assumed that it was an Islamic book on the Qur'an. In the book, I read for the first time about Qur'an manuscript variants, which of course contradicted Islamic claims about the Qur'an. I promptly closed the book, returned it to the library, and pretended I never read it, because I wanted to believe in something again. That book was ruining my attempt to. However, after a couple of weeks, I became consumed with what I had read, and set out on a quest, that was doomed to fail, to disprove the idea of Qur'an manuscript variants. Islam was then placed on the same shelf as Judaism.
I think that this was probably my first Deistic period, where I accepted the idea of God but just rejected the notion that He had a major impact on the world. At first I felt somewhat freed, as I had for Judaism and Islam, but that quickly fell into discontent. So I was back on my search, wherein I investigated - with varying degrees of seriousness - everyone from the Sikhs, to the Zoroastrians, to the Buddhists, and others. I even read up, some, on various tribal religions (especially of American Indians). Throughout this time, I would undergo a few different, brief, Deistic periods.
Eventually, in part because all of this time I had been suddenly, and without meaning to, adding "in the name of Jesus" (or otherwise praying to Christ) at the end of my prayers - something I thought had been a habit, but now I think might have been something more - I began to give Christianity a second look. Because of my problems with sola scriptura - and even more importantly Christ's promise that the Gates of Hell will never prevail against His Church - I could not bring myself to accept the Protestantism I had long since ceased to believe in. I wanted a Church that could say "I was founded by the Apostles." I did, very briefly, look at Anglicanism, because it could be traced back through the Roman Catholic Church to the Apostles, but my investigation led me to believe that Anglicanism shouldn't be considered a Church because their is no unity of belief, at all. That left me, at the time, with the Roman Catholic Church (I was unaware of groups like the Old Catholics and even the Orthodox Church, at the time). I was very skeptical of the Romans, because I had not really considered them to be "real Christians" when I was a Protestant. As I learned more about the Catholic Church, and began discovering that it was not, in fact, the cesspool of corruption, filth, and evil that Satan swam in during the summer, I began to like it more. I had been able to overcome most of my objections to it when I finally heard about Orthodoxy on the Catholic Answers website. But, I still had some things that made me hesitate, most prominently the idea of an infallible Pope, when history seemed to suggest that this was not always the teaching of the Church. I had, at this point, really grown to like the Catholic Church, because I liked what I saw online of the mass, I liked the clear-cut hierarchy, I liked the organizational aspects, I liked how there were Catholic Churches all over the place where you could hear the same thing every Sunday, I liked how ancient it was, I liked how its priests were clearly identifiable and not ex-businessmen who had never gone to seminary but were friends of the retiring pastor (as one pastor I'd had was). But at the same time, I knew I could not be a Catholic if I did not believe in Papal Infallibility, and I knew I could not yet say I did (though I was very close to just giving in and saying I was wrong, when I first saw mention, in passing, of Orthodoxy).
Thankfully Catholic Answers informed me of Orthodoxy. For the next two years, before attending an Orthodox liturgy, I began reading about Orthodoxy. I began comparing Orthodoxy to Catholicism (during the process of which, I frequently gave up and tried to convince myself of some other religion or just call myself a Deist and quit on religion). I struggled to accept Orthodoxy, as I was doing this, because it did seem to be disorganized, it lacked a strong hierarchy (on a world-wide basis), it wasn't neat, it wasn't clear-cut. At times I still want to just give in and say, and lie to myself saying, "I believe the Pope is infallible" and become Catholic, especially when I think about the fact that there's a Catholic Church that is a ten minute walk from my house, and an Orthodox Church that is an hour and a half drive from my house, and how almost anywhere in the country I go, there's a Catholic Church present, or how I could attend every service the parish in my town has, if I were Catholic. Or how it doesn't seem as tough ascetically. Now, I just think about how, if I were a Catholic, and if I ever had any kids, they would be denied the life-saving Body and Blood of the Lord for so many years after birth, and it reminds me I can't go that way. But in the end, after I determined that I can't just accept Catholicism and lie to myself for the rest of my life, when I am not thinking about what seems easiest, or what is nicest to me, Orthodoxy seems right. It seems true. It seems good. It seems holy. It seems like the Body of Christ.