Before becoming a believer, I was an indifferent agnostic, not a passionate atheist like you. I had no emotional ties to any philosophical or religious beliefs. I was not even a seeker for truth, but a seeker rather of hedonistic pleasures. But I read a lot. And I found that of all the authors I read (mostly at random), the ones who seemed endowed with the most wisdom (Hawthorne, Chesterton, Donne, Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Endo, Kingsley, etc.) were curiously Christian. So I too became curious, and began to read, not randomly but intentionally, works of non-fiction by these same authors, and eventually the Bible itself. In doing so, I gradually became intellectually convinced of the truth of Christianity, which in turn convinced me of the strong possibility that since there is a Living God, He could fill up the aching hole in my weak, self-centered, hedonistic heart. So I began to pray. Or better put, to cry out.
My soul was NOT flooded with joy, but I gradually over the years began to sense a Presence in my soul, and a recognition of my wretched unloving sinfulness, but ONLY to the degree that I had a heavenly Father Who knew the depths of that sin and forgave my sins, as does His Son Who died and rose again that they may be remitted.
I never said "the sinner's prayer." I WAS baptized but I'm not sure it took.