Death assumes an 'individual'. We are not indivisible. This makes the finality of death moot as we're in a constant decay. Following this logically, I have 'died' and am in a present state of repeated 'death'. The assemblage that gives me identity is always trading pieces of itself to continue the pattern that makes me, 'me'.
My identity is an ever-changing model of atomic pieces. I am not my memory, nor my experiences, nor even the agency that is writing this reply. My illusion of agency takes credit for actions decided by a mind whose decisions I have little deliberation over.
I might be unclear. The idea is really cemented in my head and I could be skipping descriptions that would matter to someone unfamiliar.
Death is frightening to me because I have evolved a necessity to live. Death is, in reality, something I have 'experienced'. If you can really call a cessation of a particular order of self 'experience'. The thing I have not experienced yet is an absolute discontinuation of an illusion of agency and false continuity. I say 'illusion' because our 'self' is not contained to a single part of the brain and we are conscious, 'over-time' with the recruitment of many areas and the delay causes us to perceive and live in a slight past. This isn't even addressing the issue of the biological limitations that constitutes 'living' (i.e. sensory limitation).
I'm going to end this before it gets rambly. I'm not even sure why I tried explaining it without wanting to write the requisite novel.
TL;DR I am not alive in the traditional conception of, 'living', to die. Life and death are hyperbolic, simplified ideas of a much more nuanced thing.