Although acknowledged by law, connections between domestic violence and mental health are not recognised in practice

A representative image of a domestic violence victim (Image Credit: Freepik)

By Sweta Daga

Society has not kept up with the law against domestic violence, as gender discrimination ensures that systems that are meant to protect a victim of domestic violence are inefficient.

In 1997, Faridabad was a sleepy Haryana town known for polluting industries that manufacture tractors and tyres. Vidhi, whose name is changed to protect her identity, had moved there, about 700 kilometers north of her native Bhopal to live with her husband.

Marriage to a grocery shop owner didn’t prove to be all rosy for Vidhi. She said her husband and his parents constantly verbally or physically abused her, she said, reminding her that she wasn’t good enough because her own family was not as financially strong as theirs. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe in front of them,” she said.

Things came to a head when her husband wedged a knife in her stomach on summer day when they were at his parents’ house in Vidhisha, a town 60-kilometers north east of Bhopal. She was only 24 years old then. Buried under the weight of physical and mental torture, Vidhi moved back to Bhopal.

Vidhi has not only lived with a scar on her stomach from that fateful day but has continued to carry the trauma even 26 years later. “I couldn’t sleep at night because I would keep reliving the day over and over again,” she said.

“Women who have experienced domestic violence can experience post-traumatic stress, emotional dysregulation, anxiety, or depression,” said Dr. Madhuri H.N, Assistant Professor of Psychiatry, NIMHANS, Bangalore. Domestic violence and mental health are bi-directionally linked, meaning that they can influence and worsen each other, she added. “Women who have existing mental health issues are more vulnerable to domestic violence. Essentially, this can turn into a continuous loop.”

Domestic violence and mental health

Since violence in intimate relationships is often hidden and has shame attached to it, the confidence of a victim takes a massive hit. Vidhi said that when she stepped out with her husband, she would often look at other couples and wonder how everyone else seemed so happy. “I lost my confidence,” she said. “I couldn’t even speak to others properly.”

She said she resorted to merely blaming her ill fate for her situation.

Twenty years ago, when the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act (PWDV) was implemented in October 2006, it was the first time the mental health impacts of domestic violence were recognised in law.

Until then, the dominant law was Section 498A of the Indian Penal Code, often used in conjunction with the Dowry Act. It criminalised cruelty by a husband or his relatives against a married woman, punishable by up to three years of imprisonment and fines.

However, even today, while implementing the PWDV Act, the focus on mental health is often lost, said Mishika Singh, founder of Delhi-based Neev Foundation for Legal Aid. Although the law promises psychological care, Singh said it is a hit and a miss. “I usually send women to mental health counselors I personally know or meditators that I work with to make sure they get proper help,” she said.

Protection Officers

According to the law, Protection Officers (PO) are meant to play a pivotal role by assisting the victims in filing complaints, helping with medical treatment or shelter where necessary, connecting with lawyers, and helping with counselling services. But POs often fall short of that role.

Our systems are not designed for healing, said Chetna Arora, psychologist and co-founder of That Desi Psychologist, a mental health service platform. The questions that police officers or lawyers or POs or judges ask [to the woman] are, “So why didn’t you leave?,” she added.

“Years of working with women facing domestic violence in intimate relationships had informed me that what women wanted was freedom from violence, not an end to the relationship,” wrote senior advocate Indira Jaising, about the time when she was instrumental in framing the PWDV Act.

Sarika, 46, whose name is changed to protect her identity, said her husband beat her and threw her out of their house in Haryana’s Sonipat two years ago.

She called the emergency helpline number 112 seeking help. But by the time they came, she said, she had already made her way to her brother’s house a few kilometres away. After two and a half months, she decided to file an application in the Women’s Cell and was assigned a PO.

“The PO was very dismissive of what our family was saying,” said Sarika’s sister. She also seemed to want to close the case quickly, she added.

Sarika’s experience is not isolated, according to Dr. Arora.

Experts said the glaring gap was in the training received by all those handling domestic violence cases. “The victims have gone through trauma that takes years to navigate. Neither in the police stations or in the courts are people trained for these types of mental health issues,” said Mamta Saha, a Delhi-based senior lawyer who currently works as a Supreme Court mediator in domestic violence cases.

 

More of the same?

Sarika struggles to sleep and has been on medication to manage anxiety, her sister said.

Victims of domestic violence have mental health issues that manifest in various forms, from panic attacks to depression and anxiety, and cognitive impairments like memory loss, said Dr Arora. “Some patients develop conditions like Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or Bipolar disorder, and some come in with physical pain in their bodies and have no idea why,” she added.

Experts say everyone in the system, including the POs, need to be equipped to manage such complex mental health challenges.

In order to further help the systems in place to deal with domestic violence, in 2015, the Ministry of Women and Children, under the union government launched Mission Shakti. The programme was started for “either protecting or assisting women who are victims of violence or in difficult circumstances.” Mission Shakti includes a “One Stop Centre,” which includes emergency rescue and response, medical assistance, police assistance, legal aid, psychosocial support and counselling, and short term shelter.

According to the Mission Shakti website, there are 865 operational One Stop Centres (OSC) across India and 2.56 crore women have used the helpline. Singh said she encourages the women to call the helpline, so that a record is created.

Singh’s organisation is doing a study in Delhi to assess the efficiency of the OSCs in Delhi. 

In 2021, the Ministry of Women and Children along with NIHMANS and National Law School, Bangalore began basic and advanced training for the staff at OSCs. “A large challenge is that the turnover of staff at both of these places is very high,” said Dr. Chethana Kishore, Assistant Professor of Psychiatry at NIMHANS, Bangalore.

For working class women, the priority is shelter, money for themselves and children, and protection from violence, said Singh. “Mental health gets pushed to the back burner.”

Two and a half decades after walking out of her husband’s house, Vidhi said she continues to be depressed. Her son didn’t have a regular childhood, but she now wants him to have some financial support as he navigates life as a 26-year-old.

“I don’t know how or when I will ever come out of it,” she said.

*The story had earlier referred to ‘Chetna Arora’ as ‘Dr Chetna Arora’. We have changed the story. We regret the error.