When I was sixteen, I was confirmed into the Catholic Church (it involves getting your forehead really oily). We get to choose patron saints. I chose Dymphna, the patron saint of those afflicted with mental illness. When the priest got the form I filled out, he telephoned me personally and asked if I knew I'd chosen the patron saint of "nervous disorders". I said yes.
Not that I was afflicted with mental illness. But I didn't want to be, either.