I just saw a video about the Cat Righting Reflex Theory, explaining how cats can twist in midair to land on their feet; a mystery scientists puzzled over for years until high-speed cameras captured it in action. Watching that, I couldn’t help but think of something that happened to me. A fall that defied physics. A moment where reality seemed to… skip. I’ve told this story before, but it still refuses to make sense. I’ve gone over it in my mind, trying to find a logical explanation, but the truth is, it was impossible. And yet, it happened.

Let me set the stage: A tiny bathroom, barely larger than a closet, three feet between the bathtub and the sink. I was about to step out of the tub when I lost my footing. There was nothing to hold onto. I was flailing, falling forward, and I knew this was going to end badly. The sink loomed ahead, and I was on a direct collision course—almost certainly for a concussion or worse. There was no room for acrobatics, no way to twist midair. Even if there had been space, I was out of shape and had certainly never trained in gymnastics.

And then…

Blackout. Just a fraction of a second. A blink.

When I came to, I wasn’t sprawled on the floor. I wasn’t bleeding or even bruised. Instead, I was crouched in front of the sink cabinet, facing the opposite direction—180° from where I’d started my fall. I was now facing the tub. I blinked several times in disbelief. There had apparently been no impact. No pain. Just a tingling sensation at the base of my spine, as if I had landed softly, barely making contact with the tiles.

Here are some theories ranging from plausible to outright impossible:

Theory #1: The Inertial Reversal Reflex
Maybe my body instinctively twisted in a way I can’t consciously replicate; some survival-driven override that kicked in during the blackout. But that still doesn’t explain how I had the room to move that way without hitting anything.

Theory #2: The Probability Fork Hypothesis
What if, for a brief moment, my fall existed in multiple possible outcomes? In one version, I hit the counter. In another, I landed safely. When my consciousness “rebooted,” reality settled on the safer outcome.

Theory #3: Localised Spacetime Skewing
A temporary distortion in space-time allowed my body to reposition in a way that wasn’t physically possible under normal conditions. Like a momentary bending of reality.

Theory #4: The Observer Effect Escape Hatch
In quantum mechanics, reality behaves differently when it is observed. If I wasn’t conscious for that fraction of a second, was the outcome temporarily in flux until my awareness returned?

Theory #5: Simulation Error Correction
The classic “glitch in the matrix” theory. Maybe my fall triggered some kind of background recalculation, and instead of colliding with the counter, the “code” re-rendered my position to a safer outcome.

Theory #6: Divine or External Intervention
The simplest—and strangest—explanation: something interfered. Call it a guardian angel, call it fate, call it an unknown force. Whatever it was, it prevented what should have been a serious injury.

Theory #7: The Alien Abduction Time Skip
For a fraction of a second, I wasn’t in that bathroom at all. Maybe I was whisked away, examined, and dropped back before I could register the missing time. No probing—just a quick “Oops, better put her back.” Maybe they even adjusted my fall trajectory as a courtesy.

The Catwoman Connection

As I sat there, dazed and trying to process what had just happened, my eyes landed on something familiar—my framed Catwoman DC comic #1 by Jo Duffy, Jim Balent & Dick Giordano from August 1, 1993. I had bought it when it came out, and it had hung in the bathrooms of my various apartments ever since. Staring at it in that moment, I couldn’t help but wonder: Did I just pull off some weird superpower? Was there some cosmic irony at play, or had I unknowingly tapped into some feline-level agility that defied logic, because honestly, what are the odds that I could walk away from a fall like that without a single scratch?

Maybe it’s a cruel comparison, but a former acquaintance once told me she needed a hip replacement after slipping on a bar of soap in the tub. She was left lying there for some 17 hours with a broken hip before someone finally found her. That could so easily have been me. And yet, here I was, just blinking in disbelief at the tub I’d just fallen out of. I had a safety bar installed afterward, I can tell you that much.

I wouldn’t have made the comparison if we were still friends. I never brought it up when we were talking—but now that we’re not, well, too bad for her. It’s a pretty stark contrast, isn’t it?

So What Really Happened?

I still don’t know. All I know is that it shouldn’t have been possible. There was no space to move, no time to react, and yet I landed safely, turned 180 degrees from the way I was falling. Was it a quantum anomaly, an unknown human reflex, or something else entirely?

I’ve had a few moments like this in my life—falls that should have ended badly, with a twisted ankle, a dislocated shoulder, or a trip to the hospital for broken bones or a major concussion. And yet, somehow, I walked away unscathed. Not even bruised, just a strange tingling sensation, as if my body had absorbed the impact in some impossible way. Each time, I’ve been left dazed, wondering how such a recovery was even humanly possible.

As I was putting this post together, I told someone about it, and her reaction was simply, “Your time hadn’t come.” That answer hardly satisfies me. So I’m putting this out there:

Have you ever experienced a moment where the laws of physics seemed to take a break? A fall that didn’t follow the rules? A skip in reality? A glitch in the space-time continuum?

Because whatever happened to me in that bathroom wasn’t just luck—it was impossible.

And yet, here I am, telling the tale. But I can’t help but wonder—how many times can I get away with it? I don’t want to tempt fate. If I really do have nine lives, I’d rather not find out how many I have left.

If reality can skip like a scratched record, if the laws of physics can momentarily bend without explanation—how much of our experience is truly fixed? How much of what we think we know is just a framework we cling to because it’s convenient?

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Afterword: What’s Real and What’s Just Theory?

I know some of you are probably wondering: Are any of these theories actually real? Did I stumble into some quantum anomaly, or am I just overthinking a freak accident? So here’s a breakdown of what science actually supports versus what remains speculative.

Documented Science:

• Observer Effect (quantum mechanics) – The act of observation affects subatomic particles, but there’s no proof it alters macroscopic reality (like my fall).
• Extreme Reflexes in Survival Situations – People have displayed superhuman reflexes under adrenaline, but nothing that outright reverses inertia.

Theoretical, But Possible:

• Probability Forks (Many-Worlds Theory) – Some physicists suggest parallel realities exist, but there’s no way to prove we “jump” between them.
• Localized Spacetime Distortions – Spacetime warps exist around black holes, but no evidence supports micro-distortions affecting humans.

Speculative and Unproven:

• Simulation Glitches (error correction in reality?) – A fascinating idea, but there’s zero empirical proof.
• Divine Intervention – Millions claim it happens, but it remains anecdotal.
• Alien Interference – There’s no proof aliens have ever abducted anyone, but hey, if they did, maybe they’re just really good at covering their tracks.

So, did I actually glitch out of reality? Did the universe “correct” my fall? Or did I just experience an extreme, unexplained reflex? I still don’t know. But whatever happened in that bathroom was not normal.

If you’ve ever had a moment where reality skipped, I’d love to hear about it in the comments.

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• A Christmas gift to myself
• A few of the drawings I destroyed this year
• THE AKATHISIA FILES: PT 5
• THE AKATHISIA FILES: PT 4
• “I like rocks.”

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