A week ago, on the recommendation of a man who knows about such things, I bought the DVD of Armando Ianucci's wonderful In The Thick Of It.

We watched several episodes that very evening - I was, of course, impressed and entranced, and laughed myself silly, for it's quite superb.
I finished watching it a day or so afterwards, which was probably poor timing on my part - I was feeling a little gloomy, and had intended that it would cheer me up.  Sadly, the actual effect of watching something so beautifully acted, was to amplify existing feelings of inadequacy about my own acting ability.  This, in collusion with a couple of other generously-wallowed-in paranoias, made for a pretty crummy week in the end.

But there's more, as they say:

This evening, I have watched the first three episodes again, listening to the commentary.

The description of how the show was put together; how the writing was dovetailed with the improvisation; the freedom that was allowed the cast to perform the piece - all these things rekindled in me a spark of enthusiasm.  The production team began to describe how the rehearsals and improvisational process were managed, and the cast began describing the terrors they felt as they began to confront the task.  Apparently, every single one of the principals individually took Ianucci aside, and said to him that they felt they were worried they weren't up to the standard of the rest of the cast.  The evidence, of course, as witnessed by the quality of the performances, is entirely the contrary.

And quite suddenly I saw myself back in December 2006, in rehearsals for Counterfeit Skin, absolutely bricking myself about our week of improv rehearsals, mentally measuring my abilities against those of the rest of the cast... and then occasionally catching the eye of one of the others and seeing the same terror lurking within.
And the voices of the cast of The Thick Of It began to echo my memories of my own thoughts during those days... and as though somebody had flicked a switch, all the enthusiasm I thought I'd lost for ever, all my self-belief, simply popped back into my head as though it had only been round the corner for a packet of Marlboros, and was surprised to find it had been missed.

Oh and how wonderful that the office used for "The Department of Social Affairs" turns out to be the same building used in the Doctor Who story, The Invasion, as Tobias Vaughan's factory.  Now sadly demolished.