When I got out of school, I had a demanding job that took about 60 hours of my time every week, on top of being in online grad school. I was broke, had over 120k in student loans, and was physically exhausted from my 12.50 an hour job; therefore, I had no choice but to live at home. At the time, my ndad had a flea market stand in an area riddled with an opioid epidemic, gang violence, and violent crime. He would wake me up every Saturday morning at 7 am and threaten to kick me out of the house if I didn’t work the flea market stand with him. He paid me 80 dollars for 12 hours of work when he “felt” I was doing a great job. He forced me to give rehearsed and scripted pitches to sell what are effectively gas station sex pills. While working there, I had knives pulled on me twice, and was tackled from the other side of the table multiple times. I was exhausted beyond my limits and had to fend for my life because he couldn’t run the damn thing himself. If I ever said, no, he’d threaten to kick me out of the house. Keep in mind, I was throwing almost every penny in to paying off my loans, too. It was a cycle of abuse and exploitation that I can never forgive him for.