The judge's warning was short and to the point.

"It's toxic in there."

Family Court Judge Michael Broderick was talking about the small, narrow, windowless O'ahu courtroom where several mornings a week he presides over requests for protective orders.

It is a court of high anxiety.

Two people struggling through a strained or ruined relationship sit before Broderick as he weighs whether to grant a request to bar any contact between the pair for months or even years, all in the interest of safety.

This is where Broderick gets a regular glimpse of the ugly, vicious, complex nature of domestic abuse, a pervasive problem that cuts across all communities, ethnic groups and income levels in Hawai'i.

It is a glimpse that hammers home how destructive the problem can be, shattering lives, breaking up families and contributing to the burden of a society struggling to curtail the violence.

Three mornings a week at the state courthouse on Punchbowl Street, Broderick and Judge Paul Murakami each hear about a dozen to 15 requests for protective orders. On a fourth morning, another judge handles the requests. Cases also are heard at other courthouses on the Neighbor Islands.

The domestic abuse calendar is not for the faint of heart. The tension in the tiny Punchbowl courtrooms can be almost overwhelming. Every now and then, sheriff deputies are summoned — just in case.

One woman recently fainted simply at the sight of her alleged abuser entering the room. An ambulance had to be called.

Violence often is at the core of each restraining-order case. And if violence isn't alleged, emotional or psychological abuse is. The picture, no matter the circumstances, is disturbing.

You see anger. Fear. Frustration. Terror. Sadness. Tears. Sometimes in just one case.

Some parties speak in barely audible voices, their hands trembling as they recount horrific allegations of abuse. Some speak with a rage that pierces the quiet of the courtroom, escalating the already-high tension level.

You often see people with criminal records — and not just the alleged abusers.

And you hear all kinds of stories, excuses, justifications.

Each year, roughly 2,500 requests for temporary restraining orders are processed on O'ahu. Nine of every 10 typically are granted.

Once an order is signed by a judge, a hearing is held within 15 days to determine whether the TRO, good for up to 90 days, should be converted to a longer-lasting protective order.

On a Tuesday in late July, Broderick, the lead judge for the special division that handles domestic abuse cases, had 15 on his morning calendar — a fairly typical workload. He has to get through all the cases by around noon, because his packed afternoons are devoted to guardianships, adoptions and other types of Family Court cases.

The restraining-order schedule can get so tight that Broderick, widely praised in the domestic violence community as a judge who understands the complexities of the problem, sometimes apologizes to the parties for not being able to devote the time their cases deserve. But then he quickly moves on, regularly checking his cell-phone clock in between hearings to determine whether he needs to step up the pace.

On this particular morning, the cases involved mostly estranged couples and feuding relatives. Several parties were from the military. And in two cases, the men, not the women, were seeking protection.

About half the cases involved people with criminal convictions. One man had 46.

One of the first cases of the morning involved a woman alleging that her husband would not allow her to eat for long stretches, causing her severe medical problems. When she tried to get food, he would strike her, usually in the face, she wrote in her petition.

Another woman said her husband repeatedly hit her in the head, knowing such strategically placed blows likely would leave no visible injuries. Police usually are required to make arrests if there are visible injuries, but some officers say abusers have become smarter on how to avoid getting arrested. The woman said her husband also would choke her until she blacked out, sometimes in front of their children.

Yet another woman said her ex-boyfriend continued to stalk her after she ended their relationship. He would come to her home daily, looking in windows and trying to open doors, the woman said. He also would call her co-workers, friends and family members to ask about her and repeatedly sent e-mails to her and others.

At the only trial of the morning, a woman alleged that her husband took her to an abandoned road near Kapolei and beat her with a metal pipe. On another occasion, she said, she refused to go into a store with him, so he drove to a remote area and hit and choked her.

The husband denied some charges but admitted others, saying he had anger problems. He also said he got hooked on a video game that he played so much he neglected his marriage.

"I'm sorry for the things I've done," the husband told his wife as he struggled to keep his composure. "If God can forgive me, you should be able to, too."

Even as he pleaded for forgiveness, his wife, just a few feet away, refused to look his way.

Broderick granted her request for a five-year protective order.

After hearing more than 1,400 cases in a year, the judge said common themes emerge.

Although many abusers are from lower socioeconomic levels and many are struggling financially, Broderick sees people from all walks of life. Doctors, lawyers, corporate executives, professors, high-ranking military officers and many other professionals have faced abuse allegations in his courtroom.

Broderick said many abusers commonly use distorted thinking to justify their use of force. It's not unusual, for instance, for a man to say he hit his partner because she was flirting, danced with another man or didn't do what he told her. Some say violent, controlling behavior was the norm in their homes as they grew up.

"It's very hard for me to convince them this thinking is wrong," Broderick said.

The judge also sees drug and alcohol abuse in many cases. "I continue to be concerned that ice remains one of the major problems in Hawai'i," he said.

Avis Kalama, head of the Windward Spouse Abuse Center, shares that concern. "Absolutely, the drugs are getting worse. That's a big reason the domestic violence problem is getting worse."

Some women who obtain protective orders will return to court weeks or months later to ask that the orders be dissolved, even if the abuse had been severe. The women may want to give their partners another chance, the judge said. Or they may want their husbands back so the children can have their fathers around.

Broderick said he will keep the orders in effect despite the women's objections if their safety still seems in jeopardy.

Safety concerns, in fact, are the driving force behind all his restraining-order decisions.

"There's a balance here," Broderick said. "If you're going to make a mistake, you want to err on the side of safety."