I can in some way empathise with your current malaise, because in my mid-20s, I became disillusioned with my repeated failure to achieve what I imagined my life should be. I didn't so much as hate my own life, as I inadvertently resented the ideals which other people were attempting to foist on me and expected me to live by.
Like you, I had no girl, the one I thought I had was unfaithful. I wasn't the proud owner of my own place or vehicle, and had lost my job after a heated dispute about my employer defrauding unsuspecting customers.
I could've gone to live with my mum, but I chose the tent life instead. In the winter, I slept in the central island of roundabouts and rooftops, if I could scale the brickwork. I did this to avoid detection when there was no green vegetation for cover. I did have access to washing facilities which helped me to conceal my unsheltered and nomadic situation.
To some, that might be a shameful existence, worthy of contemptuous disregard, but out in the cold and solitude, I learnt how a change of perspective can be just as beneficial as an improvement in circumstances.
There's nothing wrong with wanting greater prosperity, and a higher quality of life through initiative and hard work. But don't forget to practice gratitude for God's saving grace, because regardless of what temporary possessions we own or lack down here on the ground floor. There are mansions upstairs for storing everlasting treasure. Nobody is standing still when they're busy accruing an eternal inheritance.
And look on the bright side. If you'd gone on those dates with some cute girls, your virginity may been squandered in a fleeting moment. Whether his own decision or by God's constraint, no man is going to regret remaining a virgin when his wedding night comes.
Also give your mother a hug. I love my own, dearly, but no persuasive words or demonstration of God's grace has lifted the blindness which prevents her from recognising peoples need for salvation.
