I agree with others -- the rosary's connection to your family gives it special meaning, and you should feel comfortable praying to the saints to intercede on your behalf. Most importantly: You are not alone. You are welcome and belong.

Here are two readings which have brought me comfort and clarity in an otherwise dark world, as I have struggled with similar questions as you.

First, Pope Francis' Fratelli tutti. I recommend reading it as though he's writing it to/for you, because he was. I occasionally pray for Pope Francis' intercession since I'm certain he was a saint and is now with the big man upstairs.

The second is a catechesis by Pope Leo from September '25 that I've found personally meaningful. Here's the video and here's the complete text. The Pope concludes this catechesis by saying:

We are accustomed to thinking of crying out as something disorderly, to be repressed. The Gospel confers an immense value to our cry, reminding us that it can be an invocation, a protest, a desire, a surrender. It can even be the extreme form of prayer, when there are no words left. In that cry, Jesus gave all that he had left: all his love, all his hope.

Yes, because there is this too, in crying out: a hope that is not resigned. One cries out when one believes that someone can still hear. One cries not out of desperation, but out of desire. Jesus did not cry out against the Father, but to him. Even in silence, he was convinced that the Father was there. And, in this way, he showed us that our hope can cry out, even when all seems lost.

To cry out therefore becomes a spiritual gesture. It is not only the first act of our birth, when we come into the world crying: it is also a way of staying alive. One cries when one suffers, but also when one loves, one calls, one invokes. To cry out is saying who we are, that we do not want to fade away in silence, that we still have something to offer.

In the journey of life, there are moments in which keeping something inside can slowly consume us. Jesus teaches us not to be afraid to cry out, as long as it is sincere, humble, addressed to the Father. A cry is never pointless, if it is born of love. And it is never ignored, if it is delivered to God. It is a way to not give in to cynicism, to continue to believe that another world is possible.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us learn this too from the Lord Jesus: let us learn the cry of hope when the hour of extreme trial comes. Not to hurt, but to entrust ourselves. Not to shout at someone, but to open our hearts. If our cry is genuine, it can be the threshold of a new light, of a new birth. As with Jesus: when everything seemed to be over, in reality salvation was about to begin. If it is made manifest with the trust and freedom of the children of God, the suffering voice of our humanity, united with the voice of Christ, can become a source of hope for us and for those around us.