There’s one protection-from-abuse order filed in Androscoggin County for every 151 residents.

Nobody really knows why.

Advocates and law enforcement officials say it stems from effective routing of domestic violence victims into the court system, and the subsequent, and easy, approval of protection orders by judges. Some say it’s because the courthouse is easily accessible in downtown Lewiston. Others shrug and say, “News to me.”

Why Androscoggin County has so many protection orders is unexplainable, as is so much about domestic violence, such as finding solutions for stopping it, or – most incredulous – why so many victims fail to follow the order, either by willfully violating its terms or simply failing to appear for court hearings.

After awhile, repeating the same shocking statistics, such as “More than half the homicides in Maine relate to domestic violence,” strips away their terror quotient. Outrage dissolves into acceptance, under the creeping realization that preventing domestic violence is, perhaps, sadly impossible.

This kind of complacency is unacceptable. Grasping for reasons behind Androscoggin County’s astronomical number of protection orders – and real rationales, please, not self-serving justifications – shows we, as a people, still have much to learn about domestic violence, and how it manifests.

Perhaps the rate is a statistical anomaly, a malevolent outlier on the graph of life, which represents nothing except somebody must be No. 1, and it happens to be us. Or, maybe more people in Androscoggin County feel comfortable seeking the court’s help, and realize the path from abuse runs through the district courtroom in Lewiston.

The startling ratio could also prove Androscoggin County is mired in a dangerous trough, one in which judicial action has become a last resort to making bad situations turn better. Maybe its an amalgam of these three, or none.

It is something, however. The answer is out there.

It’s uncertainty that’s unsettling. If an epidemic of illegal drugs, there would be an illicit supply chain to cut, and obvious lawbreakers to apprehend. If a string of bank robberies, there would be an identifiable suspect and modus operandi. If a case of fraud, there would be ledgers to scrutinize and missing money to trace.

Domestic violence is more difficult to describe. It’s a crime of rage and opportunity, but can also be calculated and chronic. It’s socially abhorrent to tolerate, yet also unbearable, or embarrassing, to mention. It can leave obvious physical scars, or invisible mental wounds. Perpetrators and victims transcend class, race, ethnicity, age and gender.

And Androscoggin County has the most of it, per capita, in Maine.

Nobody really knows why.

It makes us wonder if we can ever hope to stop it.