The Truth About Mutual Abuse
Your nervous system is a remarkable storyteller. Fiona’s body began telling her story long before she could put her experience into words.
Fiona was one of my clients, but that's not the main point. What matters is the landscape of trauma, which is as complex as the human heart, as intricate as the neural pathways that remember pain longer than they remember joy.
The Architecture of Abuse
Abuse isn't a single moment. It's an environment which is carefully constructed and meticulously maintained. Like a cathedral built from manipulation, every element is precisely and intentionally placed: a dismissive comment here, a controlling gesture there form a subtle structure of power.
Fiona’s abuser wasn't a monster. Monsters are easy. He was something far more dangerous: a human being. Charming and intelligent. With the surgical precision of a psychological architect, he didn't just hurt Fiona - he dismantled her sense of self, piece by carefully chosen piece.
The Neurobiological Dance of Trauma
What most people don't understand is that trauma rewrites your internal operating system. It affects you not only on emotional level but also on biological level. Your amygdala adapts to remain in a state of heightened alertness, cortisol levels stay high, and your nervous system adjusts to prioritise survival.
When therapists talk about "fight, flight, or freeze" they're describing a complex survival mechanism. For Fiona, it wasn't merely a choice; it was a fundamental biological necessity. Each interaction with her partner turned into a threat evaluation, and every disagreement felt like a potential conflict.
Conflict + Misconception = Mutual Abuse? Think again.
The Myth of Mutual Destruction
People love simple narratives. "You both did this," they'd say, as if complex human interactions could be reduced to basic maths. But trauma isn't like basic maths. It's more like high level physics - unpredictable, non-linear, deeply contextual.
Fiona’s so-called "aggressive" responses intended to do harm. They were desperate struggles for survival, expressed in the language of fear that many people find hard to understand.
The Invisible Battlefield of Reactive Abuse
Many people might not understand the term "reactive abuse" until they experience it first hand. It wasn't a choice; it was a fight for survival driven by fear.
Imagine being trapped in a room where the walls slowly close in. Not all at once, but little by little. A subtle comment here, a controlling gesture there. You push back - not to attack, but to breathe. To exist. And in that moment of pushing back, your abuser steps back with a calculated grin and says: "Look how violent you are."
Fiona’s reactions were never about winning. They were about staying alive. When he would systematically chip away at her self-worth - isolating her, controlling her movements, distorting her reality - something inside her eventually broke. She would scream and throw things. These were desperate attempt to create space, to reclaim her sense of self.
Each time she "fought back," it wasn't an attack. It was a wordless, primal scream. Her nervous system, overwhelmed and exhausted, was doing the only thing it knew how to do: protect her.
Therapists call this a trauma response. Others might call it survival.
The world loves simple narratives. They want clear villains and victims. But trauma is complex - unpredictable, non-linear, deeply contextual. Fiona’s so-called "aggressive" moments were expressions of survival, articulated in a language of fear most people couldn't understand.
The Neuroplasticity of Healing
Healing isn't linear. It requires a significant work.
Imagine rebuilding a house after a hurricane. Not just repairing the visible damage, but reinforcing the foundation, rewiring the electrical systems, understanding why the original structure was vulnerable.
That was Fiona’s healing. Not just processing events but reconstructing her entire relational blueprint.
The Biochemistry of Survival
The body keeps the score in ways language could never capture:
Elevated cortisol levels signalling persistent threat. Imagine your body's stress alarm being stuck on high alert. It's like having an internal security system that never turns off, constantly pumping out stress hormones even when you're supposed to be safe. This is your body staying ready to fight or run, long after the immediate danger has passed.
Altered hippocampal functioning affecting memory and emotional regulation. Think of your brain like a complicated filing system that gets scrambled during trauma. Memories become harder to process, emotions feel more intense or weirdly distant. It's as if your brain's emotional control panel has been rewired, making it difficult to sort through feelings or remember things clearly.
Dysregulated autonomic nervous system responses. Your body's automatic response system goes haywire. It's like having a car alarm that goes off at the slightest touch - sometimes when you're in real danger, sometimes when you're completely safe. You might feel jumpy, have trouble sleeping, or experience sudden panic for no apparent reason.
Epigenetic modifications carrying the echoes of sustained trauma. Trauma can actually change how your body's genetic instructions work, almost like leaving invisible marks on your DNA. It's as if your body remembers the stress even after the danger is gone, passing down a kind of cellular memory that impacts how you respond to future stress.
These aren't just random symptoms. They're your body's incredibly intelligent survival mechanism. A complex protective response to prolonged danger that goes far beyond what words can express.
It's your body's way of saying, "I remember. I'm trying to keep you safe." Each response shows our resilience as human - how we adapt, survive, and ultimately heal.
The Profound Complexity of Reactive Responses
When psychologists discuss "reactive abuse," they're touching something profound. It's not just a behavioural response - it's a complex neurobiological survival mechanism.
Imagine a deer surrounded by predators. Its sudden burst of movement isn't aggression - it's pure, concentrated survival. Fiona’s responses were like that - neurologically programmed self-preservation.
Breaking the Cycle
Understanding this demands empathy. Not just sympathy, but a willingness to deconstruct deeply rooted patterns.
Fiona’s healing wasn't about forgiveness. It was about understanding:
The systemic nature of interpersonal violence
The complex power dynamics involved in controlling behaviour
The neurobiological impact of unrelenting psychological conflict
The resilience of the human spirit
Recovery
This isn't just a story of surviving abuse. It's a reclamation of your power. You must understand that your worth was never determined by what was done to. you, but by the extraordinary complexity of your survival.
Trauma doesn't define you. But understanding it? That's true freedom.
For Those Still in the Landscape of Survival
Your pain is valid. Your responses are intelligent. Your survival is an act of profound resistance.
Resources are not just phone numbers. They are bridges.
National Domestic Violence Hotline 1800RESPECT
This is not an ending. This is a continuation.
You are not a victim. You are a complex, resilient ecosystem of survival.
If you are ready to talk, you can contact me at:
kat@SafeSpaceCounsellingServices.com.au
or call me on 0452 285 526
