Starting life as a strong Christian, I lived with the conviction that my life was not my own, that thought-crime was as damnable as actual crimes, and that my salvation depended on my belief that I was worthless as I am, that I could not do good, and that my savior died in my place on a cross. My periodic vacillation between faithlessness and religious devotion forced me to confront a growing conviction that a true deceiver as vile as the one described in the bible would be likely to go around telling people that he was the only way to salvation.