My lupus symptoms include extreme sensitivity to sunlight. I live in Texas, and during the summer, I have to live like a vampire.

• I have lupus. One of my symptoms is extreme sensitivity to sunlight and heat.
• During the summer, I can go outside only after sunset.

It was a typical scorching summer day in Texas when I looked at my Ring doorbell feed and noticed someone had backed into my mailbox and recycling bin. From the shadow of my doorway, I stared at the patch of grass between my house and the street. My mailbox had been beheaded, the box portion lying closer to my neighbor's driveway than mine.

The contents of my overturned recycling bin were scattered around my yard. It should have been simple for me to walk down the driveway and clean up the empty boxes and papers to keep them from blowing away. But my battered mailbox and recycling bin might as well have been 100 miles away. I can't go outside during the day without getting sick. Like a vampire, I'm allergic to the sun.

For the past 13 years, I've lived with lupus, an autoimmune disease. Often called "the great imitator," lupus frequently mimics other diseases, meaning symptoms vary widely from patient to patient. Some patients experience fatigue and brain fog. Others have joint pain or skin rashes. My disease is severe. I've survived several major flare-ups that have developed into brain inflammation.

After one particularly life-threatening flare, I had to relearn how to walk, speak normally, and play the violin. Stress, lack of sleep, and overexertion are my biggest triggers. For over 80% of lupus patients, UV light is also a trigger, according to the Lupus Foundation of America.

I didn't always have to hide from the sun. Over the years, my symptoms have changed. While fatigue has always been a constant, I didn't develop the typical lupus "butterfly rash" until eight years after my diagnosis. This is the first year I've experienced sun sensitivity.

My sensitivity makes it hard to maintain a normal life

I first realized sunlight was making me sick in early July after eliminating as many other triggers as possible. I'd spent most of the summer sleeping 12 hours a night, yet waking up exhausted. Constant nausea and headaches made concentration a struggle. A few seconds' walk from my handicap parking spot to an air-conditioned store leaves me with dizziness and extreme fatigue for an entire day. Daily exposure to the heat can have serious consequences for me if I'm outside for even only a few minutes, including a life-threatening flare-up that could leave me with brain damage.

My sensitivity to sunlight interferes with my ability to complete everyday tasks or maintain a normal schedule. While I'd chosen the house I live in because of the beautiful natural light, I'm now forced to always keep my curtains shut and blast the air conditioning. I venture outside only after the sun goes down, which makes outdoor chores and running errands difficult, especially when many businesses close at 6 p.m.

Because I usually finish work at 9 p.m. and need to stick to a rigid bedtime to manage my lupus, I have a thin margin of time in the evening to buy groceries. I prefer to pick up my groceries in person rather than pay for a delivery service, and I can't just run to the grocery store when I use up all the milk. Lately, fresh produce has felt like a luxury. I try to consolidate my errands into one day so I only feel sick one day out of the week. I often have to weigh whether what I need is worth the hours of nausea and exhaustion I'll feel from simply walking across a parking lot during the day.

Like most Americans with disabilities, I'm stuck paying the "disability tax": the unofficial name given to the endless stream of money disabled people are forced to spend on our survival. Just this month, I spent $30 on an SPF jacket that isn't even cute, $275 on air conditioning, and a whopping $700 on a UV-blocking window tint for my car just so I could continue to function physically.

Most days, I feel like a walking contradiction

Luckily, my sun sensitivity hasn't influenced my career as a professional musician and violin teacher. My students come to my home for lessons, and there are fewer gigs during the summer anyway. I'm also fortunate that my friends are happy to visit me at home or wait until the evening to hang out.

But I do miss going to some of my favorite coffee shops and restaurants during the day. These days, when I do venture out during the daylight hours, I choose the places I go based not on quality but on how many windows they have and how shady they are.

Fall has always been my favorite season — now more than ever. But until summer is over, I'm a Southerner who can't take the heat — a vampire who, instead of superstrength, is stuck with the delicate constitution of a Victorian maiden. I'm a conscious consumer who recycles, shops at thrift stores, and worries about the Texas electric grid, but I blast my air conditioning for the sake of my health.

Like any vampire, I'll be relieved when the days grow shorter and the weather grows cooler.