Fighting. Fighting. Fighting. (For my heart)

I want to turtle so hard right now.  I want to stay in my room, away from all the people who have hurt me this week.  I want to put my hood up and not see the people who have touched the sensitive and raw wounds in my heart.  I want to cry and cry and cry until there are no tears left, and then sleep curled up next to someone I trust.  I want to believe truth, but most everything I've been experiencing lately has been telling me that I am forgotten, deserted, abandoned, not important.  The actions of other people have been saying "I forgot about you. I did not think of how my actions would affect you.  Your feelings, desires, fears, wishes, and hopes do not matter to me.  You do not matter."  With the notable exceptions of my life group (Ria and Lindsay, you rock), and my wonderful Brother in Christ Micah, the majority of my interactions with other people this week have wounded me, or hit me hard in all of my root lies about myself.  And I am waiting for God to come through, to show me that those lies are false and give me truth instead.  But it is so hard to wait, so hard to not retreat back into a little shell where people cannot reach me.