Phun with Philosophy, or Give Me Novocaine

I'm finding it hard to live with myself from time to time these days. And I don't mean it in the soap opera sense of "I couldn't live with myself if I..." It's more existential than that.

Part of it is my physical age- when did stretching equate to excruciating pain? But the real problem is that my brain is never been particularly cooperative. Because that's how brains are. They are independent entities that have to be coerced to cooperate. I understand mindfulness and know it's not like you can't steer your brain one way or another, but technically, it's your brain that's doing the steering. Forget about how to do it; what does that even mean? And that, my friends is why philosophy is so paralyzing.

Maybe the fact that you can't actually know for sure if you're moving or have ever moved is kind of paralyzing too. Figuratively if not literally. I remember doing this stuff in college and knowing that somehow I liked it, even if I had no idea what any of it meant. Metaphysics versus Epistemology. Big words for simple but confounding questions. Do we exist and what do we know? Or is it the other way around? Where's the dividing line between conscious and unconscious thought? I need to sit down. Or am I already sitting?