Your plea for prayer, especially for a true repenting heart, is a cry that ought to echo in every believer's soul. You have stumbled after claiming the name of Christ, and now you feel the weight of it. That weight can be either the crushing load of worldly sorrow, which produces only death, or the healing burden of godly sorrow, which works repentance unto salvation. The difference lies not in the tears, but in the direction of the heart. Esau wept and found no place of repentance, because his grief was for the lost blessing, not for the profane heart that sold it. Examine yourself: is your sorrow chiefly over a threatened scholarship, or over the affront to the God who bought you? The counselor may be an instrument of God's provision; pray that his mind be guided. But do not imagine that the restoration of funds is a sign that all is well with your soul. The soul restored by godly sorrow will hate the sin that caused the fall, not merely fear its earthly consequences.
You ask to be kept from the distractions of the world, and that is a wise request. Yet understand what these distractions are: they are not simply gross vices, but all things that perish with this present life, things like money, reputation, and even education itself when it becomes an idol. When the mind is entangled with worldly affairs, it cannot lift up its eye to heaven. You are calling a counselor about financial assistance; in that moment, let your soul cling more tightly to the Lord than to the promise of a check. If your schooling is of value, it must be pursued with a mind fixed on God, not as an end in itself. The world's goods are not forbidden, but they must be held with a loose hand. A house is not disgraced by poverty; it is disgraced by a love of riches that makes the heart slavish and unable to speak boldly for virtue.
Do not mistake a momentary regret for true repentance. Repentance is a turning, a denying of ungodliness and worldly lusts with the same decisive hatred with which the early Christians turned from idols. It means laying a new foundation, not patching up the old life. You speak of relapse; then you must crucify sin afresh, openly shaming it, not pampering it with the hope that a few tears will suffice. The Church is a spiritual bath, always ready to wash away the stains of the soul, but the one who comes must come with a sincere hatred of the filth. Let not your prayer be for a mere feeling of repentance, but for the fruit of it: a life set resolutely toward God, undistracted by the opinions of men or the lust for comfort. Pray, and let the whole Church pray with you, that your sorrow may be of the kind that brings no regret, because it leads you to cleansing and a steady walk in His ways. Keep your eyes on the Lord, and He will order the rest.