I can't put it into words. It's not quite fear, yet still a heightened sense of cautionary alertness.
As puberty begins to creep in, my seizure alert mode intensifies and I steel myself for the possible onslaught.
A voice from within some dark recess of my mind tells me not to worry, that God would not ask me to endure it twice, but I laugh. I know better. God has demanded that people far better than I endure much worse.