ALLA SENCHENKO has a strong intuition and is fascinated by Kabbalah. She is drawn to the understanding that “you are a part of something greater.” She survived captivity and discovered her inner strength. Participating in the Invictus Games restored her trust in society and her belief in justice.
About myself: I am a social person. But at a certain moment, I’ve realized that I feel comfortable being alone. It’s about vulnerability. I don’t want to be hurt. I live alone with my dog. We are similar — I have my territory, he has his. And we don’t bother each other.
I am a rebel. Since childhood, I have disliked injustice. I speak up where others would remain silent. I assess risks, knowing what I might lose, but I’d rather speak up than stay silent.
I also consider myself an adventurer and an adrenaline junkie. I am willing to take risks to feel something unknown. That’s why I’m trying wakeboarding and snowboarding at the Invictus Games. At the last moment, I chose skeleton because it’s something new. The Invictus Games are an opportunity to do something meaningful for myself and for others. Being in this atmosphere, with these sports — it’s about making a leap over myself, over my pains and losses.
About faith and observation: Considering that this year has been quite successful for me, I have been thinking that I might make it to the national team. I don’t really believe in horoscopes, but I’ve read that everything Geminis wish for, will come true this year. And everything turns out that way, not bad.
The city provided me with housing, I resigned, gained the long-awaited freedom, and enrolled in university to study psychology. I have overcome my fears and balanced my psychological emotions. There are positive changes that I like. New people.
However, there are also difficult situations that lead to despair. I feel like a surfer — I am balancing. And my willpower and character help me.
About the war: There are situations that I react to. Just like with the war — it happened, and I went to fight. I served for three years under contract in the 24th Brigade starting in 2018. I resigned in December 2021, and then the full-scale war began. I didn’t have time to relax, joining the Territorial Defense.
In fact, my service was quite challenging. My first combat deployment (in 2019) coincided with the time when I was getting divorced and my mother passed away. I struggled to cope with it. However, I discovered knife throwing, which calmed me down. Eventually, I started working with a psychologist. I’m one of those people who need to talk through their problems — it’s like I’m listening to myself.
Right now, I feel like I started a race but haven’t reached the finish line. I want recognition for my efforts; I want to achieve victory in the war and be a part of it.
About captivity: I’m the kind of person who is difficult to irritate. But after returning from captivity, I kept thinking, “God forbid, someone does something stupid and provokes me.” It’s a fragile time when you start to belong to yourself again, stand on your own feet, and recover, yet you feel very vulnerable at the same time.
I was not afraid of anything in the war except captivity. When I was “processed” and locked up like an animal in a cage, I thought it was some sort of safety because my status was “captured,” and it was a chance to survive, to wait for exchanges. But for someone who loves freedom above all else, the feeling of freedom in a cage was incomprehensible.
When I was on the front line, my self-preservation instincts kicked in. I lived by those instincts. And when I found myself in captivity, that instinct remained.
In captivity, there are no thoughts about the future. There is only the here and now. I froze and adapted to the situation. I never cried, and my strength came from my pre-war experiences of traveling. I could clearly see the images, in colors and scents — the sunrise in Egypt over the sea. I would close my eyes, abstract myself, and feel the hot air and the coolness of the sea. I imagined Paris, Vienna. That cannot be imposed.
They (the Russians) tried to find and probe for soft spots. I didn’t care. My comrades had died, and I had no attachments to them. When they aimed a gun at me, I would say, “Kill me.” They conducted checks, and I passed them.
In captivity, I learned to accept myself as stinky and dirty, because otherwise, I would lower my self-esteem.
When I returned from captivity, I was struck by the eyes of my comrade and the tears in them. Those were eyes that reflected all the war, all the battles, but the tears were as sincere as those of children when they cry with those little pearls rolling down their cheeks. My comrade cried so sincerely, and I was taken aback.
About thoughts and the subconscious: When a person is afraid of something, they don’t attract it; they just subconsciously know that it can happen. We simply don’t know how to read between the lines. We don’t spend time alone with ourselves. The hardest thing in life is to remain yourself, to find yourself, to understand yourself.
I have walked my difficult path, but there is one big bonus in this journey — no one has supported me from behind; I went through everything by myself. My comrades held the line with me. Unfortunately, I lost those guys, but it wasn’t my fault, and I couldn’t save them. You should never blame yourself for what happened. The only time I thought that things could have been different was when we changed the order in our trio. Usually, when we moved in threes, I walked in the middle. Volodya went first, and Serhiy was last. It’s like in the “Transporter” movie; you can’t change the rules. But that time, I got delayed and walked at the end.
As for death, I have a special attitude toward it. I want to tell people, “Stop being dependent on those who have already passed away. You should respect them and remember them, but you need to free yourself from that dependency. When you cling to them, you don’t allow their souls to rise to heaven.”
About the feeling of happiness: Many things make me happy. The warm rain, meeting with comrades, delicious or new things. But I always wish for more.