People write things down to commemorate certain events. But as time passes, these events tend to be forgotten. It's called commemorating, but it's more like trying to forget.

Close Your Eyes, Unwilling to See Yesterday

For now, I think 2025 is the year I least want to remember, and among it, summer is what I least want to recall. Those days lacked color; what remained was endless darkness and a sky that seemed to collapse. At the same time, it was a chasm separating me from the past.

Spring and Winter, Not Knowing There's Thunder Ahead

Overall, these six months had only three things worth remembering.

The first is turning sixteen. Sixteen means a lot, but for me, mainly the ability to submit the filing on my own. After all, it was something I had looked forward to for two years, and I was quite excited when the filing went through. The server required for the filing was purchased in August 2024 (the summer vacation after the high school entrance exam); from summer vacation to winter break it seemed like half a year, but in reality it took longer than I expected. Perhaps that's the power of anticipation, able to stretch a period of time invisibly. Actually, what took longer was the filing review period. The first submission took a long time to review, and with the approach of the New Year, it took less than seven days. The second submission took about four days, but the Sichuan Bureau was quite efficient, approving in three days.

After the winter vacation, a new term began, with a new class after selecting subjects, new classmates, new subject teachers, and a new homeroom teacher.

People who know me know I am an 'ordinary' administrator of our school's MC server. The school's MC server was established as early as 2022, and now it's three years old, but it's still not an officially recognized organization by the school.

As the forum moderator (腐竹) himself said, back then there was a teacher who had a fairly close relationship with him and asked if he wanted to form a club, but he declined. So when this was brought up at a discussion meeting, it became my responsibility.

Our school is fairly large; between two teaching buildings sits an administrative building. My classroom was at one end of the teaching building, while the secretary of the Communist Youth League was at the other end, and halfway we had to go down a floor.

This person wasn't always in the office, so after the club was formed there were tales like 'baking pancakes a hundred times sprinting to find the Youth League Secretary but failing' and 'a weekly sprint of twelve times, only five times finding someone'—as if.

Later, the president was carelessly replaced, a half-hearted recruitment meeting was held, recruiting twenty-something people, and that matter ended roughly.

Then, our school's tradition—the sports meet. And our school has another 'tradition': the sports meet must be livestreamed (it's a joke—the live broadcast only started in 2022).

Coincidentally, I was the director of broadcasting at our school's Integrated Media Center. Coincidentally, the moderator from your school's MC server is the head of your school's Integrated Media and the director (though only the theoretical part was taught by him, and he didn't play a major role, but after all, the master leads you to the door). So this was rushed into being; then it was three days of continuous work, sitting at the broadcast console for three days; meal tickets were useless, hot meals couldn't be eaten (because after filming the cafeteria closed), not a drop of water drank (because I didn't know where water was, and there was no logistics to fetch). It was undoubtedly hard and tiring, but before it ended, I didn't feel the hardship. The dream, the emptiness after the end, was all talk. In short, those three days of livestreaming were still very happy and fulfilling.

Summer, Autumn, and Winter: The Suppression Finally Explodes

So we finally reach the main topic—the year's emotional undercurrent: two characters 'depression', five characters 'I have Yuyu syndrome' (though not diagnosed yet, and I don't know whether it exists; maybe I have it, or maybe it's improved).

I have a habit of processing my emotions by myself; in other words, I suppress them.

There's an old saying about shifting chemical equilibrium: 'When the pressure rises during industrial ammonia synthesis, the volume decreases, the reaction rate increases, but the higher pressure also raises the requirements for power equipment and reaction devices.' Obviously, I'm not a container for ultra-high-pressure reactions, but I didn't realize that—even though I started to feel my emotions were off at the beginning of 2025, I couldn't muster the energy to do things, and felt a bit lost.

Then, at the end of June, I blew up emotionally.

How it happened, I won't say much here; I'm afraid recalling will blow me up again (in truth I can't remember much, because my brain's self-protective mechanism has erased almost all memories of June to August; my memory of that period is fragmentary).

But at least I made the right choice: to see a doctor, and go with my mom to see a doctor.

Because of some matters from the past, minors have to be accompanied by a guardian when visiting psychology departments.

I thought my mom would scold me harshly, and that would be the end of it.

But reality told me I was wrong. It turned out she had already noticed my emotional abnormality, she had wanted to talk and understand, and the opportunity had been my own to let go.

People only learn from personal experience.

And 'The only lesson humanity learns from history is that humanity will not learn any lessons from history,' Liu Cixin wrote in The Three-Body Problem.

I think that period's mental state can be glimpsed in writings from that time.

After that came taking medicine and psychotherapy, and 2025 slipped by quietly.

Open Your Eyes, Hoping to See the Morning Sun

Although this article is titled 'The Aftermath of 2025 and the 17th Birthday in 2026' (where the 'aftermath' part is off-topic, hey), the actual writing took place after the birthday; but never mind, the publication date can be changed (laugh).

Originally this part should include some blessings for turning 17, but as you can see, the birthday has passed; what blessings? So I'll just write something casually.

Returning to the beginning, I said 'to write down what I want to commemorate, in fact it's to forget'. But I had written another article saying 'People always have a certain attachment to the past.' So someone said, aren't you juggling two opposite aims? What do you think about that? Actually it's not contradictory, because they are not about the same thing. 'Write down' and 'remember' cannot be equated, can they? (lol)

Okay, that's about it; let's end 2025 with an imperfect finale using this article.

Signature

Actually, writing 烧瑚烙饼 or 易曦维光 here doesn't matter All you need to know is that we will bid farewell to the past Completed on January 16, 2026.

Postscript: Some things I realized I missed after finishing

First, 'the afterlife after calamity' should perhaps be phrased as 'life after the ordeal' because the previous year hadn't yet erupted. But 'the afterlife after calamity' isn't a big problem either, since I started taking meds around September and by November it was basically under control (so I don't know whether I was actually ill). If you insist on not taking it too literally, it's not a big deal.

Also, I embedded a small idea into the article's slug: From death to birth, rebirth after death, rhyming with |θ|'s cadence, and it barely matches 'the aftermath of the calamity'. But that's not important, because you hardly see the address bar.

Due to time constraints (this article was written during a full self-study period and isn't finished yet), some content was omitted, such as why mid-way we changed to a new site, a new domain name, new appellations. If there is a chance, I will explain gradually later.

(Also, the site's frontend has already upgraded to Shiroi, considered a little birthday gift to myself)