Domestic violence and mental illness: "I have honestly never felt so alone in my life"

Domestic violence, especially related to an intimate partner, is inextricably connected to mental illness. Faridah Newman explains how mental illness can often represent a vulnerability which is exploited by abusive partners.

Though stigmatised as "unstable" and "dangerous", mentally ill people are more likely to be victims than perpetrators of violent crime1, and more likely to have experienced intimate partner violence than the general population2.

Intimate partner violence (physical, emotional, psychological, sexual or economic abuse by a romantic partner or relation) is an issue that rears its head regularly on the mental health blog that I run, Mind Over Matter Zine. With nearly 40,000 subscribers, I've come to receive regular contact from people who may be seeking help but afraid of, frustrated with, or without access to conventional mental health services. Many have survived or are currently in abusive relationships.

The links between mental illness and intimate partner violence are all too well known. It is estimated that at least 60 per cent of female mental health service users are survivors3; 70 per cent in inpatient settings4. Mental health problems are usually seen as an adverse consequence of abuse but while gene-environment interaction studies have revealed that stressful life events like abuse can "unlock" genetic risks to certain mental illnesses5, describing the relationship as one-directional is simplistic and misleading. Mental illness can often represent a vulnerability which is exploited by abusive partners in ways similar to those experienced by people with physical and learning disabilities. (Women with disabilities are twice as likely to experience domestic violence as non-disabled women, and over one in ten young men with a longstanding ilness or disability say they have been assaulted by a partner in the previous year6).

The majority of people I've spoken to through the blog have said they were ill before their abusive relationship began, with some suspecting that their mental health problems may have been a factor that attracted their partner to them. Debbie*, who has multiple diagnoses including Bipolar Disorder and Schizoaffective Disorder, said: "He told me I was beautiful because I was broken. I saw him as a ray of light, at the time."

Jess* has since recognised that her relationship was one of a continuing pattern for her partner: "When we met I was reclusive and hopeless, and he took an intensive caretaker role toward me. Before me, he fostered another young woman in the same way, and as I moved closer to leaving the relationship, he did the same again with another. Both had mental health problems." Her feelings of isolation and loneliness at the time of meeting her partner was shared by others. Forced isolation from support systems is a form of abuse common to many violent relationships; is this why someone with abusive tendencies might seek already isolated romantic interests? David*, who was depressed and suicidal when he met his partner said, "He met me at my lowest and I think this afforded him the power dynamic he was looking for. I don't think he'd be interested in me now that I'm happier, more confident and outgoing."

Having myself witnessed a friend's partner try to dismiss her report of physical violence to the police on the grounds that she was "mental", I am upset but not surprised to find similar experiences shared with me online. Abusers minimise the gravity of the violence, or deny it happened at all using their partner's illness as an excuse. Anna* said, "When I actually sought out some help because I could barely walk from being pushed to the floor multiple times and had marks all over my face from being grabbed by the head, he tried to say that I had scratched myself because I'm "crazy". Luckily, my one confidant knew he was lying, but I could see that kind of thing working, which terrifies me to the core." 

The overwhelming feeling I get when reading back through the blog's inbox is that of people slipping through the cracks of service provision, with mental health services viewing abuse as the remit of survivor's services, and survivor's services reluctant or unsure how to cope with people with pre-existing severe mental illnesses.

Research has shown that many mental health professionals do not view enquiry about domestic violence as part of their role or within their competence7. Indeed, one person who wrote to me said that within therapy this was simply ignored, "I disclosed my situation of current and long-standing abuse only for her to not acknowledge this at all, move on, and never mention it again." When Debbie* was driven to attempt suicide after an evening of particularly acute violence, her husband's claims that she was refusing to take her psychiatric medication were believed and her disclosure again ignored, "I was taken to the ER for observation, where I pleaded with the nurses, and told them the story. They did not make a report. I wasn’t allowed to speak with a counsellor, or a police officer. I was just 'off my meds' in their eyes." When she later managed to get a private interview at a local domestic violence shelter she said of her caseworker, "When she heard of my mental illnesses and how my husband was taking advantage of them, she outright asked me “And have you spoken with your psychiatrist?” I have honestly never felt so alone in my life."

*Some names have been changed to protect identity


1Teplin, L. (2005) Crime victimization in adults with severe mental illness

2Trevillion, K. et al (2012) Experiences of Domestic Violence and Mental Disorders: A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis

3Bowstead, J. (2000Mental health and domestic violence: Audit 1999

4Phillips, K. (2000) "Sociogeopolitical issues" in Eriksson, E. et al (ed.) (2000) Mood Disorders in Women

5Caspi, A. et al (2001) Influence of Life Stress on Depression: Moderation by a Polymorphism in the 5-HTT Gene

6Mirlees-Black, C. (1999) Domestic Violence: Findings from a new British Crime Survey self-completion questionnaire> (pdf)

7Trevillion, K. et al (2010) Barriers and facilitators of disclosures of domestic violence by mental health service users: qualitative study

Silhouettes representing French victims of domestic violence. Photograph: Getty Images

Faridah runs the mental health blog Mind Over Matter Zine. She tweets @FaridahNewman.


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The strange death of boozy Britain: why are young people drinking less?

Ditching alcohol for work.

Whenever horrific tales of the drunken escapades of the youth are reported, one photo reliably gets wheeled out: "bench girl", a young woman lying passed out on a public bench above bottles of booze in Bristol. The image is in urgent need of updating: it is now a decade old. Britain has spent that time moving away from booze.

Individual alcohol consumption in Britain has declined sharply. In 2013, the average person over 15 consumed 9.4 litres of alcohol, 19 per cent less than 2004. As with drugs, the decline in use among the young is particularly notable: the proportion of young adults who are teetotal increased by 40 per cent between 2005 and 2013. But decreased drinking is not only apparent among the young fogeys: 80 per cent of adults are making some effort to drink less, according to a new study by consumer trends agency Future Foundation. No wonder that half of all nightclubs have closed in the last decade. Pubs are also closing down: there are 13 per cent fewer pubs in the UK than in 2002. 

People are too busy vying to get ahead at work to indulge in drinking. A combination of the recession, globalisation and technology has combined to make the work of work more competitive than ever: bad news for alcohol companies. “The cost-benefit analysis for people of going out and getting hammered starts to go out of favour,” says Will Seymour of Future Foundation.

Vincent Dignan is the founder of Magnific, a company that helps tech start-ups. He identifies ditching regular boozing as a turning point in his career. “I noticed a trend of other entrepreneurs drinking three, four or five times a week at different events, while their companies went nowhere,” he says. “I realised I couldn't be just another British guy getting pissed and being mildly hungover while trying to scale a website to a million visitors a month. I feel I have a very slight edge on everyone else. While they're sleeping in, I'm working.” Dignan now only drinks occasionally; he went three months without having a drop of alcohol earlier in the year.

But the decline in booze consumption isn’t only about people becoming more work-driven. There have never been more alternate ways to be entertained than resorting to the bottle. The rise of digital TV, BBC iPlayer and Netflix means most people means that most people have almost limitless choice about what to watch.

Some social lives have also partly migrated online. In many ways this is an unfortunate development, but one upshot has been to reduce alcohol intake. “You don’t need to drink to hang out online,” says Dr James Nicholls, the author of The Politics of Alcohol who now works for Alcohol Concern. 

The sheer cost of boozing also puts people off. Although minimum pricing on booze has not been introduced, a series of taxes have made alcohol more expensive, while a ban on below-cost selling was introduced last year. Across the 28 countries of the EU, only Ireland has higher alcohol and tobacco prices than the UK today; in 1998 prices in the UK were only the fourth most expensive in the EU.

Immigration has also contributed to weaning Britain off booze. The decrease in alcohol consumption “is linked partly to demographic trends: the fall is largest in areas with greater ethnic diversity,” Nicholls says. A third of adults in London, where 37 per cent of the population is foreign born, do not drink alcohol at all, easily the highest of any region in Britain.

The alcohol industry is nothing if not resilient. “By lobbying for lower duty rates, ramping up their marketing and developing new products the big producers are doing their best to make sure the last ten years turn out to be a blip rather than a long term change in culture,” Nicholls says.

But whatever alcohol companies do to fight back against the declining popularity of booze, deep changes in British culture have made booze less attractive. Forget the horrific tales of drunken escapades from Magaluf to the Bullingdon Club. The real story is of the strange death of boozy Britain. 

Tim Wigmore is a contributing writer to the New Statesman and the author of Second XI: Cricket In Its Outposts.