WEST WARWICK — The community logged 350 arrests in 2006 stemming from domestic violence. That means a town resident was being abused by a family member, loved one or roommate almost every day. Many of those arrested were probably repeat offenders, said West Warwick police Capt. Richard Ramsay.

It’s what advocates against domestic abuse call the cycle of violence. I’ve never been in an abusive relationship, but I understood what Ramsay was talking about as he explained it to our Citizen’s Police Academy class a few weeks ago.

It’s when tension in a relationship gets so high that it eventually erupts into an explosion, and then, a honeymoon phase. That honeymoon period gradually gets shorter and shorter as the abuse continues, sometimes disappearing completely. The victim is with a perpetually ticking time bomb, unsure whether the next sock left on the floor, late bill or flippant word will result in a beating or emotional degradation.

We get to talk in class about the interesting things police do on a daily basis; the crime scene investigations, the drunken-driving arrests, the weapons and tools of the trade.

But in learning about police work, you also have to hear about the crimes no one wants to admit happen next door, or even in their own homes. Melissa Alexander works with the Elizabeth Buffum Chace Center, in Warwick, where abuse victims can come for help. She said filling out forms for restraining orders and other legal processes can be frustrating and discouraging.

“You can’t save everybody,” she said. “You can’t change people’s lives, but you can let them know there’s an advocate they can turn to.”

Thanks to television — not personal experience — I know that leaving an abuser is not an easy thing to do. That’s because a number of barriers work together to leave the victim feeling powerless.

The abuser may isolate a victim, control the household budget and use children as leverage to get the victim to stay in the situation, Alexander said. A victim may have low self-esteem, fear being labeled an “abuse victim,” or simply lack the money to leave. Couple those things with the complex legal system victims must navigate, or family members who don’t believe reports of abuse, and it can be hard for a victim to believe there is a way out.

The police may have to visit six times or more before the victim leaves the abuser, Alexander said. That contact is crucial to letting the victim know there is help.

“If you, as an officer, say [to the victim], ‘This isn’t right, what’s happening to you,’ it may make the difference,” Alexander said.

Showing up at the same doorsteps time after time can take a toll on officers, said Captain Ramsay. And each time officers knock on the door on a domestic call, someone must leave in handcuffs.

“You can’t worry about what happens after you make the arrest,” said Ramsay. “You don’t live in their shoes, you don’t live in that house, you don’t have the same issues. You do your job when you’re called to do it, and you can’t think about what happens after. And that’s hard to swallow.”

(Major strides in the prosecution of domestic violence crimes must have saved countless lives in recent years. Unfortunately, the legal system, like many government agencies, is still reactive rather than proactive. Consider Barbara Lombardi, a Coventry woman who was killed by her estranged husband in 2002 after he violated a restraining order while out on bail. Legislators passed a law that year that requires domestic-violence offenders to be held in jail until their hearing in District Court. It also makes stalking a felony on the first offense.)

At first, the line between a healthy relationship and an abusive one seems thin. In the police class, I was listening to what makes a relationship abusive and I couldn’t help wondering if I had been abused. Did the arguments and spiteful words I traded with then-boyfriends count? I started thinking about how easy it is to overlook toxic things while you’re in a relationship that, once you’re out of the relationship, you can hardly believe you put up with for so long.

But mostly, my heart went out to the victims of abuse. Whether any relationship I was in bordered on abuse was irrelevant because, in the end, I got out. But there are thousands of people — men and women — who feel they can’t leave. Or who think that a slap, kick or insult is what love is supposed to feel like.

I want to say to the victim, “Get out of there. Don’t you know you’re worth more than that?” I want the abuser to be put in jail for making another human being feel so powerless.

I know abusive relationships are complex. I’ll never know what makes a person stay, or what makes an abuser feel he or she has the right to hurt a loved one.

It’s complex, but one thing, at least, remains simple: Abuse is not love. Abuse is wrong. And there is help.

If you think you are a victim of domestic abuse, tell someone you trust, or contact the statewide Victims of Crime Helpline at 1-800-494-8100.

tbuford@projo.com