I used to hate being alone, I dreaded it big time. Being in my home cooped up by myself used to make me uncomfortable and drive me up the walls. You would hardly ever find me alone, either at home or out and about. If I did happen to be by my lonesome self, it wasn’t long before a sense of boredom and feelings of isolation slowly crept in as I anxiously waited for my husband to get home. Not only could I not bear the thought of being by myself, but the fear of missing out was strong and had me hanging out with people and going places that…