Well, I actually did it.
I just submitted a substantial complaint against the koala, aka Harry Cantellow, to the General Chiropractic Council in the UK.
I cannot tell you how healing this is.
Based on the material that I received from his former employer, Cantellow is not the good human I imagined him to be.
If there is anything worse than arrogance, it is cowardice.
Thus, I decided to resurrect my most real review of working with Cantellow, which I wrote and shared with him in January. Why? I suspect that he resigned from his post rather than having these details come out…
I have now replaced the Tuning Room with his new practice.
Go Beyond Chiropractic in Brecon has no conscience: Consciously stay away
Six months following on from my harrowing experience with Harry Cantellow of Go Beyond Chiropractic, formerly working at the Tuning Room, I want to update my one star review with this blog, as I really need to remove that lone star. In fact, if you have ever experienced any kind of trauma in your life, please stay very far away from Go Beyond Chiropractic! Cantellow thinks he possess God-like abilities and will likely re-traumatise you.
I am still struggling with PTSD since ending his services.
Cantellow not only physically hurt me, but was also uncaring and unprofessional in his services. I have never felt so misunderstood, disrespected and underestimated in my life.
I worked very hard to explain my condition to Cantellow, as it is so much worse than anybody realises. My body is colonised internally by injuries, causing pain that is both terrifying and invisible, so unfortunately when I express my suffering people never think it is justified, just a bad attitude, and I am punished. This dynamic, which started at birth, caused me such shame as an adolescent into adulthood that I had to live a secret life of isolation – my deepest emotions and personal life are not connected to anybody else.
And this is why most of my childhood ambitions, any calling or career, were unrealisable. This also included achieving true intimacy with others, because my nervous system is so badly injured that I was always unable to try for what I really wanted, only to first seize in nervousness and then internally collapse.
I had to bury this pain deep inside of me, making my body develop differently around the injuries. This put my incredible physical abilities under such pressure that I had to stop them before they flourished. But while my injuries were closing my world, people always assumed that I was the one making my life choices, not my disability. Unfortunately, this is why my body still seizes, to this day, when my injuries are not recognised. This is why I live alone.
I painstakingly explained all of this to Cantellow, even though it caused me shame and embarrassment because I had started to care about him.
Up front, I warned him that I had been in so much pain for so many years – decades at this point – that I was hopeless and suicidal. I wanted him to know how bad it could get, and he assured me that this would not be a problem. I even shared with him my book about love and resistance in Lebanon to overcome colonisation and war, as a metaphor for my own body.
After all, at first he was giving me hope that I could actually heal. He would say things to me like, ‘I see you,’ when I was at my lowest point in life. I never thought anybody would ever see me; I was so fucking desperate. Honestly, I have never been seen by anybody in my life, not even my mother. Also, at this point in my healing I was almost completely cut off from my loved ones.
At first, Cantellow would also respond positively to my intimate email updates with thoughtful entrainments, to ensure that my body did not respond badly. He would even tell me sometimes that my emails made his day.
I honestly felt tricked into thinking that Cantellow cared, leading me to care even more. I mean, I had nobody else in my life to talk with at that point, nobody to help me, but him. I had no illusion that he could return my feelings, but I did think he was my friend. We were both weird, so I even hoped lifelong friend. But more often than not, I would leave my sessions with Centellow in tears, because my body knew that he did not understand its injuries. I knew in my stomach that he was not actually capable of healing me.
Cantellow even tried to stop me from doing my daily ice baths, which is pretty much the only pain relief for my condition out there. He said ‘the spine’ does not like ice, again without any thought of my personal situation. So, it was not as if the warning signs had not been there for me all along.
Then, a few months later, I heard him tell somebody else, ‘I see you.’ At about the same time, when my body was badly reacting to his entrainments, he rolled his eyes in annoyance when I referred to my negative updates.
It was like, if Cantellow’s network spinal practice worked, he’s God. But if it didn’t, something was wrong with me. Not him. He even made me internalise this by thinking I had a mental health problem, when in reality the problem was that he did not understand my condition and refused to even try to engage with it, only imposing his own agenda and making me worse and worse.
And he treated me like this, after my suicidal warnings and telling him that I was gaslit my entire life. Here I was being gaslit again, only I was worse physically, mentally and emotionally, plus I was living in a country on my own.
At that time, my quality of life was the lowest it had ever been. My nervous system was so broken and confused that any outside problem caused an internal meltdown. When this happens, my body locks itself into a seizure that looks a lot like a panic attack. However, for me it is more: my body is violently trying to reorganise itself in response to perceived danger.
I know I am difficult because people getting me wrong makes it worse. And I knew this was happening when I started seeing Cantellow, but I really did stupidly fall in love with him and as a result I really wanted to believe in him.
At first, I did experience some pretty amazing healing. But after a few sessions, I started bursting into tears as soon as I had left the building because I knew deep down he was trying to impose his magical fix onto a healthy body, rather than trying to care, understand and work with my unhealthy body. His entrainments soon started to make me worse as a result.
My nervous system injuries are very complex as they occurred at birth, and so my internal system developed around them. This created both new patterns to mask and blockages to protect the injuries. While this allowed me to grow into adulthood, my body has never, ever felt safe. It also started to lose its abilities in childhood, so I physically peaked before puberty.
I explained all of this to Centellow, including my lifelong sexual dysfunction. His response to the latter was: ‘Remember, from the seekers code, you are already there. Going “back” to fix may not be so fruitful.’
I mean, what the fucking fuck?
My body responded by going into a seizure, which back then I did not understand. I had to stop treatments with him for a week and found my own tantric insights into sex, which may always be a struggle for me.
As somebody who loves seeking knowledge, questioning and critiquing, enough to have earned a PhD, I still cannot understand why my body was not a goldmine for Cantellow to explore. His lack of interest to understand my injuries is intellectually offensive. In fact, I think his treatment of me was abusive.
I started getting worse and worse while working with Cantellow. He was imposing his will on my body and my injuries/victimhood were strengthening to try and defend myself. I started spasming uncontrollably again for the first time in years, and my seizures were harder to control and more frequent than ever.
This is because of scar tissue and trauma, which Cantellow was amplifying. My body has always been divided into two: the injured left side is organised by despair, fear, seizures and most importantly, the victimhood of living five decades with a problem that nobody has ever recognised. Spine surgery then territorially locked the stored trauma of my life into my neck.
On the right side, however, there is hope and strength that my body can unite in a more organised way. Working with Cantellow, he could not access my neck or the right side, which then was only working to sustain the terror of the left, not allowing itself to self actualise and develop the hope and strength to do the difficult work of healing.
Cantellow was empowering the left side only, and this is where the suicidal tendencies were always nurtured. Instead of releasing energy for me to heal, he was feeding the need for me to kill myself. I had never been that out of control in my entire life, as I started to feel unworthy of healing. My healer, after all, was making me worse and blaming me for that. And I loved him.
My biggest gripe with Cantellow, however, was that he underestimated the amount of painful work that I need to do every day (then and now) to reset my nervous system, which honestly, has anybody ever even tried before? Hours daily of yoga, pilates, HIIT work, breath and energy work, ice baths, electric stimulation, red light therapy and more. I have to do something intentional, usually physical, 50-60 hours every week to heal – because I am in that much pain. He, with his God like powers, did not think any of this was necessary, making it feel like even more of a struggle that I had to.
It took only one session with Benny Matthew at the House of Human Potential to ignite my right side. At the time, it was the most amazing feeling I had ever experienced. And this happened even though I was then at my worst, much more fucked up than before starting with Cantellow. In fact, while first working on me, Matthew got offended by the state of my body. He asked in exasperation, ‘How old was this guy who worked on you?’
After only two sessions with Matthew, I had healed more than I had over the course of two months with Cantellow. And Matthew recently stopped a seizure by performing the Jon Howat protocol. I have never felt so safe in my life.
The reason why I am writing this now is because I do not think Cantellow has understood how much he has hurt me as he also does not realise how fucking arrogant he is given his inexperience. He was incompetent with me. I have collaborated with some of the most talented humans on the planet, many of whom are not known for their humility – Hollywood actors, fashion photographers, MPs, diplomats and renowned professors, to name a few.
Cantellow was my worst collaborator. His ego is unparaleled – the only comparison I can make is to some kind of religious fanatic. The real reason why I was suicidal is that my body knew he was hurting me, but my heart desperately wanted him to be helping me instead. It was this conundrum that led to my chaotic spiral. It was a problem that I could not solve, no matter how much I cared and loved him.
Cantellow was hurting, not healing, me.
My body had been trying to communicate to me to get the fuck away from Cantellow, I was just in love. One time post entrainment I actually had a seizure and could not breathe. He responded by doing a little dance. I left that session feeling weaker and more out of control than ever, so I subsequently tried to end it, but he made me feel guilty for not appreciating his dance!
Not long after, I fucking fell off the table after our session. My body was raging in pain. Did he apologise or help me up? Nope, but he did congratulate me by email. For what? Was this some kind of silly game to him?
The night I almost killed myself, I knew I had to cut Cantellow out of my life completely, because he is not empathic, nor even curious. He did not take my situation seriously and I almost killed myself as a result. And even then, he did not call the emergency services when I said I was suicidal. Staff only called an ambulance several days later post crisis, leading the emergency workers to apologise for Cantellow’s abject dereliction of duty.
After making the decision to leave Cantellow, I was so fucking terrified of him that I started shaking violently when he called me about the ambulance, even though my suicidal feelings had stopped three days previously. In the following days, my PTSD was so bad that whenever I had to walk by his former building, my entire body would shake. When his colleague first arrived at my safe place where I do my ice baths, I almost seized.
To this day, I still shake in fear whenever I think of Cantellow, including when writing this blog. Take my advice: stay very far away…