When does crime become a crisis? In western NSW, domestic and family violence now accounts for 60 per cent of police time.
Even then, regional superintendent commander Danny Sullivan said the crime was under-reported.
"[It's a] crime of silence, in that most people do not like to talk about it," he said.
"So, you can imagine the prevalence of this in our society.
"It's a crime we won't rest on but we will also engage our broader community around attitudinal changes so that we'll get to the bottom of this."
The latest crime data shows the rate of domestic violence assaults in regional NSW was nearly 30 per cent higher than the state average in the past 12 months.
In the far west, in communities like Walgett, Bourke and Moree, the picture is even worse.
Over the past five years, the average domestic violence rates were more than five times the state average.
AVO breaches also high
The number of breaches of apprehended domestic violence orders (AVO) paints a similarly dire picture in that part of the state.
Those breaches have increased more in regional NSW than the state average, at nearly 9 per cent each year since 2018.
The rate of breaches is also highest in western towns, including Bourke, Walgett, Coonamble, and Moree Plains.
The data weighed heavily on Superintendent Sullivan.
"When I look at these statistics, they alarm me," he said.
New data also shows that local courts are being impacted by these increased rates.
The Bureau of Crime Statistics and Research report, released on Thursday, showed that courts are taking more than 100 days longer on average to finalise domestic violence matters than four years ago.
Housing crisis impacts
In the Orana Mid-Western command, there is a focus on looking after the victims of domestic violence while also holding perpetrators accountable.
Police in the region partner with community services under a state government-funded program called Staying Home Leaving Violence.
Police remove alleged perpetrators allowing victims to remain in their own homes, rather than having to flee and find alternative accommodation.
Frontline workers, like Kathryn Walford, said the housing situation was now so grave, alternatives were almost impossible to come by.
"The refuges are always full, so the sad thing is that I have clients who have nowhere to go," Ms Walford said.
"They only get so many days in temporary accommodation, but where do they go from there?
"They've got to pay top money in hotels or caravan parks."
Domestic violence doesn't discriminate
Ms Walford is the women's safety coordinator for Connecting Community Services in Dubbo.
She said, in her experience, domestic violence did not discriminate.
Her clients range from teenagers to grandmothers.
Standing in her organisation's black shirt, outside humble brick headquarters, she said a typical day involved advocating for women and helping them with housing, court, medical treatments, and managing referrals.
Some women who seek help qualify for an immediate needs package that assists with security cameras, video doorbells, and the like.
But that did not erase their fears.
"It still doesn't take that anxious feeling away, that worry that he's coming back," Ms Walford said.
She has felt the impact of domestic violence firsthand, through a couple of partners who she said "weren't so very nice".
It was an understated assessment of what had driven her to work with other Aboriginal women in western towns trying to escape domestic violence themselves.
"Because I was a victim of control — physical, verbal and mental — I swore I'd never let that happen to me again, and I never have," she said.
"Now, I encourage my women to take that control."
This story is part of a week-long ABC series looking at domestic violence across regional, rural, and remote parts of NSW.
