I dreamt last night that I was on the verge of death (within the end of the day) and I was ok with that because I knew within the dream world, I would plunge into the void for a little while and then I would come back (either as myself or another person - the details of the reincarnation had not been worked out by my subconscious mind). I could live (or rather die) with that.

I still find the truth (extinction), however, unbearable. Philosophical musings about my constituent particles going out into the universe to mix with new beings or my DNA soldiering on safely housed within my children offers little solace.

It's strange that an illusion would be so distressed by its demise.