Eat Pray Love - Elizabeth Gilbert

I am reading a book "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. Cindz and I bought this book yesterday. A woman's (Liz) search for everything across Italy, India and Indonesia. This excerpt that I will write made me cry. This was when Liz talked to God and begged for help. It affected me because I saw myself. The exact emotions I feel.

Part 4: Of course, I've had a lot of time to formulate my opinions about divinity since that night on the bathroom floor when I spoke to God directly for the first time. In the middle of that dark November crisis, though, I was not interested in formulating my views on theology. I was interested only in saving my life. I had finally noticed that I seemed to have reached a state of hopeless and life threatening despair, and it occured to me that sometimes people in this state will approach God for help. I think I'd read that in a book somewhere.
What I said to God through my gasping sobs was something like this: "Hello, God. How are you? I'm Liz. It's nice to meet you."
That's right - I was speaking to the creator of the universe as though we'd just been introduced at a cocktail party. But we work with what we know in this life, and these are the words I always use at the beginning of a relationship. In fact, it was all I could do to stop myself from saying. "I've always been a big fan of your work..."
"I'm sorry to bother you so late at night," I continued. "But I'm in serious trouble. And I am sorry I haven't ever spoken directy to you before, but I do hope I have always expressed ample gratitude for all the blessings that you've given in my life."
This thought caused me to sob even harder. God waited me out. I pulled myself together enough to go on: "I am not an expert at praying, as you know. But can you help me? I am in desperate need of help. I don't know what to do. I need an answer. Please tell me what to do. Please tell me what to do. Please tell me what to do..."
And so the prayer narrowed itself down to that simple entreaty - Please tell me what to do - repeated again and again. I don't know how many times I begged. I only know that I begged like someone who was pleading for her life.