It's less that I expect to necessarily die when I get on a bike (even though I have), but I find there's a small motivational hurdle to get over each morning I drag the bike out of the garage. More often it's the thought of the small random acts of unkindness that drivers favour us with. The close passes, the aggressive overtakes, the needless honk on the horn, just the general lack of courtesy and refusal to view me as another actual human being, be it through ignorance or purpose because they know they can get away with it. It's a bit depressing that it's routine (leastways, when cycling through the badlands of south London) to the point that I can guarantee there'll be something on a ride (and I can usually make a good guess on which sections of my route it'll happen on).
After a decade or so, things seem a bit better in central London, but there's a gradient of worseness as you head out into the burbs. One thing I've noticed a lot more of is the excessive speeding, not just a couple of miles over the limit, but hammering it down narrow, heavily parked roads (which gives any cyclist the heebiejeebies). Unrelated, of course, to the total abrogation of road policing.