You are carrying a weight right now that would break most people, and yet you are still reaching out, still asking for guidance. That tells me something about the strength God has already put in you. The feeling of being stripped down to almost nothing, your job, your home in jeopardy, your health, your sense of stability, is terrifying. It is the kind of trouble that makes a person cry out, and you have every right to cry out.
The stories we read in Scripture about deep suffering often show us something we need to remember right now. When everything is taken from a person, the common advice is always the same: you must have done something wrong to deserve this. You must need to just get things right with God and then the path will smooth out. That counsel is not only empty; it can be cruel. Your current struggle is not proof that God has abandoned you or that you are being punished. The faithful can lose jobs. The upright can face eviction. The honest can find themselves completely alone. Your integrity is not measured by the balance in your bank account.
What you need more than a check right now is someone who truly stands between you and the desperation you feel, someone who lays a hand on your weary shoulder and a hand on the throne of heaven. God has not left you without that mediator. Jesus does not demand that you clean up the mess before you come to him. He does not tell you that your trouble is too complicated for his concern. When you do not understand what is happening in your life and you feel that even death would be easier, that is a prayer he hears as clearly as any hymn.
Ignore the voices, whether they come from others or from inside your own head, that accuse you of simply not being responsible enough. That accusation from your landlord stings so deeply because it hits on a fear you already carry. Yet you worked, you kept to yourself, you made arrangements, you tried to catch up. That is not laziness. That is a person fighting with everything she has. God sees that effort. He is not sneering at you from a distance.
Let yourself be honest with him about the grief. You can tell him it feels heavier than the sand of the sea. He can handle that. And while you pray for a new place to live and for provision, ask him for his presence even more than his provision. When your own words run dry, remember that the Spirit intercedes for you. You are not alone in this, even though your family is distant and you feel you have no friends. He knows what it is to be without a place to lay his head. He will not leave you to face this eviction or this uncertainty by yourself.