It was all a dream. My husband, our children, my friends; all just one big illusion I seemed to have conjured up while I was unconscious and under the influence of the coma.
For a while after I finally woke up, I was doubtful. It all seemed too real to just have been a dream. But when a month passed and still nothing regarding my life in Equestria surfaced, I had begun to face the truth; it was all just a dream.
I was left with nothing. Nothing but the bittersweet memories of what I wished to be, a vivid imagination, and a deep depression. Having my life of complete happiness ripped and shredded before my eyes and being left with solely the ice cold numb realization that it wasn't real. Blood, sweat and tears, in which added to nothing more than a desperate attempt to live out my fantasies.
I sank fast before my parent's eyes. They don't understand the emptiness I feel. I could explain it a million times to them, and yet they won't see the pain and sorrow filling my chest. To them, I'm only getting worked up over a simple dream that I wanted to be real. But it goes much deeper than that.
I stopped writing altogether as well. Every time I tried, my mind would start back to the one story that started it all. I can't watch My Little Pony anymore either. It makes me remember all the times I spent with the real Mane Six.
My mind is cruel, torturing me with nightly visions of my life in Equestria; the life I've come to accept wasn't real. Select times when I had been coaxed from the best dreams, I'd feel that happiness -- I'd feel Discord's arms around me, holding me close as he whispered in my ear that it was alright. But then I'd wake up fully, and be numb with the cold of my bedroom, and the empty spot where I'd dreamt him to be. I missed my children too. Once or twice (or more), I'd whirl around at the sound of a crying child, or the cheerful giggle of a small girl, or even the call of "Mommy!". Day after day, my depression got worse.
December came, meaning that a total of five weeks had passed since I woke up from my coma. I'd been unconscious for a whole month. The doctors say that I've recovered nicely, almost miraculously, from my head injuries. It's funny though, I don't have any pain, save for the gaping hole that resides in my chest. There's no soreness, no headaches, nothing. Just a cold numbness that prohibits me from my happiness. I live a world of dreams now, the only place where I can be happy.
And I've come to the conclusion that the emptiness I feel in my heart when I'm awake is much greater than any pain I could ever feel.