Rodjanha Svàrogik (30) experienced ritual abuse in Bavaria from the age of 2 to 29. Her own grandmother forced her to participate in an occult sex ritual. She was also tormented by a mysterious ring given to her by her father, who considered his family the elite of society.
How or through whom did you come into contact with ritual abuse?
That was my father’s family. At first I thought it was just him, that it was limited to him, because my grandmother kept herself very much in the shadows. But as it turned out, she was at the top of the whole thing, and her mother was also part of it. So my father, his mother, and his grandmother. These three are the ones that I now know about for sure who belong to these circles.
What are the typical experiences you have had as a victim?
In short, what runs through my life is the guilt-and-atonement program. I felt guilty simply for existing. So when I was visiting there, I felt guilty for being me, for my mother being my mother, and they always made me feel it, that there was every reason for me to feel guilty. On the other hand, I was always praised to the skies. I was the greatest, the most intelligent, and the most ambitious. And I was always told, my father always told me, that I belonged to the elite. And I never understood what that meant. At the time, I always thought he was referring to the level of education, but now, looking back, I know that certain groups call themselves the elite, and that’s what he always meant. And I should keep company with my peers and study law, for example. The path would have already been mapped out, at which elite university, which elite school I should have attended before, so that I would be accepted into the relevant circles.
Where and in what context did it take place?
The main setting was my grandmother’s hotel. So there are many areas in this hotel, which fall into different categories when I went there on an emotional level. As a child, I perceived these areas of the hotel in different ways. There was an official area with the reception desk. Then there was a staircase leading up to the rooms. There was an elevator, a restaurant, that was all the official area, that felt quite normal, quite official, so to speak. And then there was a room that was separated from the rest of the restaurant by a round arch, but it was openly accessible to all guests. And only the family members actually stayed there, and occasionally a guest for dinner. So it was noticeable that guests never chose to sit there for dinner. And from this room, you could enter into another wing of the hotel. There was also a staircase to the rooms and there was an elevator, which led to the wellness area. And this whole wing was always — it felt mystical to me, there was something there, I used to sneak around there as a child, and it always exerted a very strong attraction on me. But I never found anything. I never came across anything that would have explained this feeling, but the whole atmosphere in this part of the hotel was very special. And the guests that went in and out through this back door always seemed strange to me too. And my grandmother, who was always very present in the hotel as the owner and was always eloquent and dressed in costumes with matching colored high heels, she would just give a polite, for forma nod to the other guests, but she always made special eye contact with these guests, and I noticed that as a child. And when I graduated from high school, my father presented me with a ring at this hotel. At first glance, that’s not so different from other families, because they always know how to fit certain events into stories, so that it seems logical and doesn’t stand out. It was a small, ritualistic ceremony, inconspicuous. But it was very, very solemn and special, that I am now so privileged to receive this ring. According to my father, I earned it by graduating from high school. And this ring would be presented to everyone in the family when they had reached this level of development, so to speak. The ring was made of gold. It was supposed to have been melted together from my mother’s and father’s rings and made anew for me. This ring was an abstract snake shape, so the head and tail were opposite each other on the back of the finger. There was a diamond on the tail side and my initials on the head side. So it was like a signet ring. And the very special thing about this ring is that it was modeled after an original, a real snake ring, which allegedly belonged to a very special man, whom I believe my great-grandmother knew personally. And my father spoke so highly of this man, as if he were some master whom this family also revered. And it was very important that I wore this ring on my ring finger and not on my middle finger, for example, even though it fitted me much better there. That’s when my great-grandmother got so angry. She snapped at me. She was usually very careful with her choice of words and her way of expressing herself, and she snapped at me, what I was thinking, wearing this ring on the middle finger, and I should put it on the other finger immediately. And I wasn’t at all used to this vehemence, and, above all, I thought it would be better to take care of this precious ring, so that I didn’t lose it. But apparently, it was more important to wear it on the right finger. And I wasn’t allowed to take this ring off either. That wasn’t expressed, but it was taken for granted. I knew I would regret it bitterly, if I didn’t wear this ring one day and my father found out. And the special thing about it was, as I’ve only now been able to see retrospectively, that I had the worst nightmares of my life from the moment the ring was given to me. There was a difference. There are normal nightmares, when you wake up, you’re happy and relieved. “Thank God, that was just a nightmare, everything is fine now.” But this quality of dreams was beyond anything I had ever experienced before. It was as if I was returning directly after experiencing these scenes in flesh and blood, so to speak. So I was also in physical pain, I really cried. It was really bad. I knew I had just been there. And when I reflected on these dreams in my waking life, they were the worst, most perverse dreams, you can hardly imagine. I was ashamed of myself and wondered if that could somehow be part of my fantasy. It was always about sex, violence, excrement, vomit, children, orgies that had been celebrated. I had to visit rooms. I never had the choice to say no. I stood there as if under hypnosis in a dream. Someone snapped their finger and I performed, so to speak. And I dreamt these dreams for ten years. After ten years, I became aware of the connection between this ring and the dreams, and then I destroyed this ring. This opened another door for me, a memory, and with this memory and the destruction of the ring, the dreams ended until today. Since then, I have never had a bad dream again.
What was your worst experience?
To be honest, I’m still waiting for the memory of the worst experience to come back to me. I’m not that old yet, that I would have had a very long time for my trauma-memory to open up. I’m working on it because I want to know. However, my entire relationship with my father was characterized by fear and fear of death that could not be explained. In his presence, I always felt like I had been replaced. So I was also programmed to function and take on special roles. In his presence, I was the small, shy girl, who didn’t dare say anything, but, at the same time, the very intellectually developed, cognitively developed young woman who was way beyond her age, with whom you could talk about things that you wouldn’t actually discuss with a child, and who was expected to talk to you on this level. To the outside world, however, he was always the slick, caring, eloquent, wealthy model father. And the worst experience, if you like, can be introduced with the memory of a ritual, and that was a ritual baptism. This ritual took place in a poorly lit room. I was about two years old, around that time, and sat on my grandmother’s lap. She in turn sat on an altar or throne-like chair, I should say. It was raised, had a very high backrest, and she was wearing a kind of robe, a very long, gold-embroidered robe with delicate embroidery. And I had to sit on her lap, lean against her upper body, and she then took both her hands and spread my bare legs. And this room was full of other people who were also dressed in dark clothes. But these clothes had cut-outs in certain places. So I saw nipples, genitals. The faces were masked, but I saw the eyes, and I can’t say how many there were exactly because the room was poorly lit. There must have been 15 people, but it could have been many more. And in the moment she spread my legs, everyone who was in the room looked right between my legs, and were like under a spell. And then a power arose in them that was also hot. So it was a warmth and an incredible strength and a feeling of power that rose up in them. Yes, and that’s how far the memory actually went. My grandmother seemed to be like a high priestess or a master of ceremony. She was definitely in charge. She was something higher up. And you looked up to her with incredible respect. And that, in turn, fits in so well with her everyday demeanor. Because I’ve seen a lot of people — in this place, people know each other — and when it came up that I was this woman’s granddaughter, they immediately shrank back from me and were afraid as if they had already said something wrong and would now be punished somehow, because everyone says that when this woman enters a room, it freezes to ice and it’s quiet. So she also has such a charisma in her everyday appearance. So that fitted in with this memory, that she suddenly had such a status.
Finally, do you have a personal concern or message?
Yes, because it is characteristic of these structures that there are thousands of situations, comments or reactions, machinations or events in life, which in themselves seem totally illogical or strange, and which, when they stand alone, make no sense. And we always try to come up with an explanation in our everyday consciousness. And, yes, we always doubt ourselves a lot. But if you connect all these individual parts with the common thread of the ritual structures, everything suddenly makes total sense and forms a big, whole picture. For example, I’ve met people in my life who, from a rational point of view, it seems impossible that it’s all organized and staged, that they appear in my life, because they simply approached me from the most diverse areas with the most diverse concerns. And sometimes it was so organized that I thought I had arranged for this contact to happen. So you can’t imagine that they planned everything from A to Z, but it’s basically like chess, that there are always several options for the next move. And that you still have the feeling that you’re in control or you’re involved, or you’re to blame, or you decide something. But basically, they’re just reacting to your next decision again, and then they’ll arrange it the way they want it to go. And this way of thinking, this doubt, you simply have to push it aside, and learn to understand your own body language, because it doesn’t lie. Every cell resonates and everything is stored there. And when I look back at all the stories or people I’ve met, my body was the first to know. But my head just came up with something else. “No, you can’t be rude.” “It’s just this or that problem.” Or whatever. That’s not right. So that’s programming, and it’s intentional, so that they can stay hidden and stay in the occult and continue to be masterminds. But we have to stop thinking that we can’t trust ourselves. And that is the most important task of all, to regain this ability. Because then the others will no longer have a chance.