She lives with a disability they never considered screening her for

Kristen’s Story

For over ten years, it seemed like I had the perfect life – decent house, two beautiful kids, and a husband everyone adored. Dan was charming in public, always saying the right things. People thought I was lucky. 

But behind closed doors, it was a different story. 

It started small. Eye-rolls, put-downs, little digs at my parenting. At first, I brushed it off as stress from work. Then came the outbursts: punching walls, slamming doors, breaking things. He’d always apologise after, blame it on a bad day, and promise to do better. But he never did. 

He drank more, came home late, and when I asked questions, he turned it back on me. I was “crazy,” “too sensitive,” “a nag.” I stopped speaking up to keep the peace. Friends faded away. I became isolated, He was warm and loving one day, cold and cruel the next. I was always walking on eggshells. 

One night, our daughter was sick, and he was meant to pick up medicine on his way home. He didn’t. I was exhausted and upset, things escalated fast. He slammed my head into the wall. I blacked out. I woke up to my daughter’s hysterical cries. I was vomiting and in so much pain, but he was gone. The next day he returned home like nothing had happened. 

Weeks later I went to my GP, complaining of fatigue, dizziness, and nausea. He asked if I was stressed or pregnant. I didn’t know what to say. Months later, I was pregnant again and assumed that explained how awful I felt. 

After our second child, he insisted I stay home. Said it was “best for the kids”, but really, it was about control. The abuse got worse. He’d shove me, choke me. I wanted to leave, but he’d threaten to take the kids. That fear kept me stuck. They were all I had. 

There were times I should have gone to the ER, but I was living in survival mode. My only focus was on keeping the kids safe and meeting their basic needs. 

Then came the night he almost killed me. I don’t remember the details. Just waking up in hospital with broken ribs, a concussion, and a fractured face. I couldn’t speak properly. I forgot my own kids’ names. I couldn’t walk properly. That’s when I got the brain injury diagnosis. 

I finally left. I took out a DVO and moved in with a friend. I have no job, no money, and no family support. But I’m safe, and I’m fighting to get back to myself – for my children, and for me. 

I wish people understood how serious the link is between domestic violence and brain injury. If there was more awareness, if health professionals and police knew what signs to look for and asked the right questions. Maybe I would’ve gotten help before the damage became permanent. We need systems that recognise brain injury and act early enough to change the outcome. 

Disclaimer: This is a composite narrative based on real experiences of people living with brain injury and involvement in the justice system. While the story reflects common themes and challenges, the character and events are fictionalised to protect individual privacy. 

In order to improve outcomes for both victim-survivors and those who use violence, the system must recognise and respond to the intersection of brain injury and domestic and family violence. 

At a practical level, this looks like: 

• Engaging, training, and upskilling around brain injury and treatment methods are paramount to recognising possible injury. 

• It is essential that police, lawyers, health professionals, and domestic and family violence service professionals are engaged, trained, and upskilled to ensure brain injury is understood and can be screened for in metro, regional, rural areas and when required within a culturally appropriate context. 

• People who use violence also need access to identification of BI, support, evaluation, and services, to ensure the best support to enable behaviour change. 

• Domestic violence service providers should screen everyone who seeks services for brain injury, and, when a brain injury is suspected, refer for specialised screening, evaluation, and services. We also advocate that individuals who use violence should be screened for a brain injury, as some with a brain injury struggle with impulse control and controlling emotions – two major factors that can play into negative scenarios occurring.  

Synapse is actively addressing the intersection of brain injury and domestic and family violence through research, partnerships, behaviour change programs, and the development of targeted training and resources, such as: 

• Sisters for Change (in partnership with Flinders University): Supporting women in the Townsville Correctional Centre to improve safety, wellbeing, and living conditions through a culturally informed, trauma-aware approach.

• Step Up Program: Our men’s behaviour change program that focuses on helping men with a cognitive impairment who have used violence, helping them to improve their behaviour and have healthier relationships. 

• Research collaboration with Dr Michelle Fitts: Ongoing research projects, including peer-reviewed publications, exploring the experiences of women affected by brain injury and domestic and family violence. 

• Head, Healing and Health Project (Alice Springs): A culturally grounded research initiative led by Dr Michelle Fitts, focusing on empowering Indigenous women and the healthcare workforce to respond to violence–related concussion through co-designed education and training. 

• Training resource development: Synapse is developing specialised training resources to support domestic and family violence professionals in identifying and responding to brain injury.